Chuck Versus the Burn Notice
by timewalker05
Summary: Chuck/Burn Notice cross-over. No knowledge of Burn Notice necessary. Chuck and Sarah take a vacation in Miami where they meet Michael Westen and crew, and even bring in Carina. By request, a summary of Burn Notice at the start of Chapter 3. NOW COMPLETE
1. Who Can Say No to Ellie Bartowski?

My very first fan-fic. Indeed, my first fiction since college I have let anyone read. So any reviews, comments, suggestions, constructive criticism, etc. are greatly appreciated.

I do not own _Chuck_ or _Burn Notice_.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

My name is Michael Westen. I used to be a spy.

Hi. I'm Chuck. My situation… is a little more complicated.

Chuck Bartowski wandered into the kitchen in his Nerd Herder outfit of short-sleeve white shirt and silver tie and opened the cupboard to pull out a cereal bowl. His sister, Ellie, sitting at the table, smiled. "Morning, Chuck. You were out late last night."

Chuck winced. The mission last night had been rather simple, but since it was in Newport Beach, he, Sarah and Casey hadn't gotten home until almost three a.m. "Yeah, big Call of Duty match last night against Large Mart. We cleaned their clock."

"Chuck," Ellie chided. "You're not getting enough sleep. You're not twenty-one anymore, you know."

Chuck gave her a look. "Gawd, Sis. You make it sound like I'm getting old or something."

"I just think you shouldn't spend all hours playing video games anymore, Chuck. You know…" She was cut off by Devon "Captain Awesome" Woodcomb coming in, sans shirt of course, to give her a kiss on the cheek. He had the phone in his hand.

"Awesome news, Babe," he said. "Just got off the phone with the parental units. They've been tapped for a Doctors Without Borders mission to Guatemala so they can't go to Miami to use their timeshare. They want us to use it instead. Two bedroom condo, eighth floor, overlooking the beach. Awesome!" He looked into the kitchen. "Oh, hey bro! Woah! Brilliant idea! You are Sarah could come along! That'd be super awesome! The condo's got two bedrooms."

"When, honey?" Ellie asked.

"Week after next," Devon answered. "Seven days of sun, sand, and parasailing."

"Do you think we can both get off on such short notice?" Ellie asked.

"Already called Doctor Feinstein. He said as long as we got someone to cover our shifts, he's got no problem with it. Randy, Sharon and Cho Lee all owe us so it shouldn't be a problem."

Ellie shot to her feet and threw her arms around Devon's neck. "We haven't been on a real vacation in ages!" After kissing Devon, she turned to Chuck. "Chuck, you and Sarah just _have_ to come. You've gone longer without a vacation than I have."

Chuck looked skeptical. "I don't think Sarah and Casey will go for that," he mumbled.

Ellie looked confused. "Casey. What has he got to do with it?"

"Oh, ah, well, um. Big Mike put Casey in charge of scheduling for the next couple weeks so I mean I would have to work out the schedule with Casey and, you know, he can be a little difficult…"

"Well! I'll go talk to him right now," Ellie huffed. Before Chuck could say another word, she headed toward the door of the apartment to charge across the courtyard to John Casey's apartment, her fuzzy pink robe billowing behind her.

"Woah, sis, woah," Chuck called, running after her. He grabbed her by the sleeve and she stopped and frowned at him. "First," Chuck said, "I don't think you should be visiting strange men in your bathrobe." Ellie looked down, and then gave her brother a chagrined look. "Second, Casey and I are riding in together. I'll talk to him."

"You promise?" Ellie asked.

With a sigh, Chuck nodded. He could just imagine the coming confrontation with General Beckman.

Fifteen minutes later, Chuck and John Casey, his NSA handler, were in the Nerd Herder, driving to the Buy More. Chuck kept glancing over at a scowling Casey, trying to figure out how to broach the subject. It wasn't the scowl that gave him pause. John Casey's face was pretty much always set in a scowl. No, it was the inevitable outburst over how stupid Chuck was for even suggesting an out of town trip, especially one unconnected with a mission. Somehow, Chuck never managed to get up the nerve before they were pulling into the parking lot at the Buy More Plaza.

Chuck glanced over to the Orange Orange, the cover job of his CIA handler and cover girlfriend, Sarah Walker. Her black Porsche was in its usual parking spot.

"Um, Casey," Chuck said as he got out of the car. "I need to go talk to Sarah for a minute."

"What about?" Casey said suspiciously.

"It's personal," Chuck replied.

"Still trying to get your hot dog in her bun, Bartowski?"

"First of all, that analogy would have worked much better if she was still at the Wienerlicious, Casey. Second of all, NO! Sarah and I are purely professional."

"In a pig's eye," Casey muttered.

Chuck chose to ignore Casey's snide comment. "For your information, my sister Ellie asked me to ask Sarah a question."

Chuck detected a barely perceptible softening of Casey's expression. Casey would never admit it, but Chuck suspected that Casey had a soft spot for the elder Bartowski. Ellie had that effect on people. It was impossible not to love her – or her cooking. The threat of not being invited over for any more of Ellie's home cooked meals was enough threat to put Casey in his place. Casey gave grunt number twelve (non-committal/not worth my time) and simply walked off.

Chuck crossed over to the Orange Orange and tapped on the door since it was too early for the shop to be open. A few moments later, Sarah unlocked and opened the door. Chuck's breath caught slightly at the sight of her. Only Sarah Walker could look like a beauty queen in her Orange Orange tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. 'If only…' flickered through his mind as he took in her beauty.

Sarah's face lit up in a smile. "Good morning Chuck. Come on in." She stepped back to let Chuck in, then locked the door behind him. He stopped just inside the door and stared down at the floor.

"Chuck," Sarah said, hopping up on one of the stools against the wall. "What's wrong? You seem nervous."

The words came spilling out of Chuck's mouth in a torrent; fast even by Bartowski standards. "I know the answer's 'no', but Awesome's parents can't use their timeshare in Miami and they offered it to Awesome and Ellie and it's two bedroom and Ellie – well it was Awesome's idea really – wants us to come with them week after next and spend the week with them on the beach and I know it's impossible and Beckman will never go for it but I promised Ellie I would ask and since I did promise I really have to ask since Ellie says that it's been too long since I was on a vacation and she can be really insistent and…"

Sarah placed a hand on Chuck's arm and he looked up at her. "Chuck. Breathe," she said with a twinkle in her eye. Chuck took a deep breath. The first since he's started his soliloquy. He got a goofy grin on his face when he saw Sarah's smiling at him. At least she wasn't mad, he thought.

"As fun as that sounds, Chuck, you know it's not a good idea. There's no way Beckman will go for us going to an unsecure location like that. It's too much of a security risk."

Chuck looked at her. Was that just a hint of regret in her voice? "Sarah," he asked. "When's the last time _you_ went on a vacation."

"Chuck…" she began.

"You know," he said, interrupting her. "I think I'm gonna ask Beckman anyway. You need to get out of town. Away from all of this. Even if I can't go, there's no reason you can't take some time off." He stopped. "Unless, of course, there's somewhere else you'd rather go. I guess a week in a condo with me and Ellie and Awesome is probably not your idea of fun. Your idea of a vacation is probably a trip to the Pakistani border to assassinate a tribal warlord."

Sarah frowned and Chuck quickly shut up. He knew he'd put his foot in it… again. "Chuck," Sarah said softly. "A week on the beach with you, Ellie and Awesome sounds wonderful. But I'm just not so sure it's a good idea… for lots of reasons." Chuck thought she blushed slightly, but surely that was just his imagination. She took his hand in hers. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just don't see any way it's possible."

Sarah assumed that was the end of it. But of course, one should never underestimate the force of nature that was Eleanor Faye Bartowski.

The next day, just before the lunch rush, Ellie came into the Orange Orange. "Ellie!" Sarah cried and came around the counter to give Ellie a hug. Sarah couldn't help it. As hard as she tried not to, she had begun to think of Ellie as something of a surrogate sister. "What's up?" Sarah asked, motioning Ellie to sit at one of the tables.

Ellie sat and Sarah slid into the seat across from her. "Chuck tells me that you're too busy to go with us to Miami. And since you're not going, Chuck doesn't want to go because he thinks he'll be a 'third wheel.'" Sarah started to speak but Ellie put her hand over Sarah's to stop her. "You know, Sarah, it's been ages since Chuck has been on a vacation. He never goes anywhere. You know, Stanford is as far away from home as he's ever been."

Sarah suppressed a smile. If only Ellie knew. In the Dr. Blaine Hecht affair alone, Chuck had travelled to Tokyo, Rio, Switzerland and Mount Rushmore, all in less than a week… and saved the life of the new president in the process. [Author's Note: _See the Chuck comic books_.]

Ellie pressed on. "I called Orange Orange franchise headquarters. They have specially trained personnel who can step in for one of their franchisees in order to allow them some time off. All you have to do is call and they'll send someone out. It's a little pricey, but I talked to Devon and he agreed that we can help you cover the cost, if need be."

Sarah was speechless. What was it about the Bartowskis? What was this magic they possessed that made her, an agent trained to kill in dozens of ways, feel so helpless and at sea?

"Please, Sarah," Ellie said, squeezing the younger woman's hand. "Chuck really needs this. He's been so stressed lately, I can tell. And I think you need it too. Besides, I think it will do you and Chuck good to get away together." She left it unspoken but Sarah caught the subtext, 'so you can take your relationship to the next level.'

Sarah looked at Ellie and at the expectant look on her face. God, why did life have to be so hard? Before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling out of her mouth. "I'll see what I can do, Ellie. I promise."

Ellie squealed with delight and launched herself across the table to grab Sarah in a hug. "Oh, we are going to have the best time! It'll be so much fun having you along!" Fortunately, Ellie could not see the look of panic and distress flashing across Sarah's face. 'Just how,' she was thinking, 'am I going to explain this to General Beckman?'

Thirty minutes later, Sarah was in The Castle, the secret base hidden in the basement of the Orange Orange, standing in front of the large screen television on which was the dour image of General Diane Beckman, NSA Director. "Let me get this straight, Agent Walker," Beckman said, her voice hard. "You want permission to take the Intersect on a vacation to Miami? To an unsecure location."

Sarah tried hard not to look down and shuffle her feet. Why did talking to General Beckman always remind her of being called into the principal's office? Not that Jenny Burton had ever been called into the principal's office – that would call too much attention to herself – but she imagined this is what it felt like.

"It was his sister's idea," she said lamely.

"And you _agreed_?"

"No!" Sarah said, a little too forcefully. She took a deep breath to calm down. Damn this assignment. Damn Chuck and Ellie Bartowski and their uncanny ability to put her in situations like this. "General, you don't know Ellie Bartowski. She can best be described as a force of nature. Chuck and I told her that I couldn't go, so she called Orange Orange corporate headquarters to arrange for someone to watch the shop for me. She can be _very_ insistent. I'm afraid if we don't go, it will make her suspicious and she may start questioning Chuck and my covers."

Beckman looked angry; but then, like Casey, that was pretty much the norm for her. "I don't like this. I don't like this one bit. I do _not_ appreciate being put in this situation." She paused. "What does Major Casey think?"

"Since I didn't think it would get approval, I didn't mention it to Major Casey," Sarah admitted.

"Tell Major Casey that I want him in Miami no later than this Friday to set up surveillance on the condominium where you'll be staying and do the prep work. Operation Miami is a go."

The screen cut off so abruptly that Sarah didn't have a chance to get in another word. She was so shocked by the General's decision that she almost reestablished the connection to make sure that she had heard correctly. As she thought further about a week in a condo overlooking the beach with Chuck, a smile, and then a look of panic quickly flashed across her face in rapid succession. How was she going to deal with being alone, with Chuck, in the same bed, for a whole week? Wasn't this assignment difficult enough?

Then an even more terrible thought crossed her mind. Beckman had told _her_ to tell Casey. "Oh God," she groaned. "Casey is going to kill me."

"She said _what_?" Casey roared.

"That you are supposed to go to Miami no later than this Friday to set up surveillance on the condo Chuck, Ellie, Awesome and I will be staying at and to do the necessary prep work."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"You can call her yourself, if you want," Sarah replied, knowing full well Casey would never call Beckman to question his orders. Even Casey wasn't that brave.

"So I have to schlep to Miami, and take a week of my vacation at the Buy More so you two love birds can shack up in a beachside condo? Great!"

"It wasn't my idea, Casey. If you want, you can explain to Ellie Bartowski why Chuck and I can't go with her and her fiancée." Sarah thought she caught an almost imperceptible shudder at the suggestion that Casey cross Chuck's sister. Casey simply gave grunt number eight (don't think that I'm going to forget this) and stalked off. Sarah had already arranged for a CIA operative to fill in for her at the Orange Orange (it wouldn't do to have some temp from Orange Orange headquarters stumbling on the access to The Castle in her and Casey's absence) and now all she had to do was go tell Chuck and Ellie the "good news." Sarah trudged up the stairs of The Castle to go talk to Chuck at the Buy More. In many ways, she thought, this could very well be her most difficult mission yet.

Chuck looked up just as Sarah entered the Buy More. He couldn't help it. Every time she walked through those doors, time seemed to slow to a crawl and the whole world seemed bathed in a soft, white glow. She came over to him and gave him a quick brush of her lips against his that left him breathless – again. "Hi, sweetie," she said. "Are you excited about our trip? Have you talked to Big Mike yet about getting off?"

A short, bearded man popped up from behind the rack of cd's. "Trip?" he said. "Where are we going? You didn't tell me about any trip, Chuck."

Chuck looked from Sarah, to his best friend Morgan, and back to Sarah. "You mean?" he stammered to Sarah.

"Yep," she said. "I cleared it with the Orange Orange bosses and I'm good to go. _We're_ good to go. You have cleared it with Big Mike, haven't you?"

"Well, um, I didn't think we could go so I didn't bother," he said, still flustered. "Really? They really said we could go?"

"Mm hmm," she said. "All the proper clearances. I even have a _special_ temp to watch the Orange Orange for me."

"That's… that's great," Chuck stammered. "I, uh, guess I better go talk to Big Mike."

"But where are we going?" Morgan whined.

Chuck didn't seem to hear him as he turned and walked in a half-daze toward Big Mike's office.

"A week!" Big Mike roared. "You want to leave me alone with these animals for a whole week?"

"Emmit will be here," Chuck offered. "And I'll get Jeff and Lester to promise to lay off of the – well at least cut down on the after-hours beverage consumption while I'm gone."

"You can't leave me alone with these freaks for a whole week, Bartowski."

"But Big Mike," Chuck said. "I've got the vacation time."

"Hell, Bartowski. I know you've got the vacation time accrued. I count on the fact that you never take vacation. I'm not so sure I can…"

Just then, there was a knock at Big Mike's office door, which swung open to reveal a beaming Sarah Walker, radiant in her Orange Orange uniform. "Big Mike," she said, crossing over to touch him lightly on the arm. "I am so glad you decided to let Chuck go away with me for vacation. It means so much to me." She paused. "You did tell him yes, didn't you?"

Even Big Mike was not immune to Sarah Walker's considerable charms. He paused, then managed to stammer, "Oh, yes, of course. I was just telling him that we all hope he has a good time and that I hope he can get in some deep sea fishing while he's there."

"Oh, thank you, Big Mike," Sarah gushed, then gave Big Mike a quick peck on the cheek that caused him to blush a brilliant red. Sarah turned and glided out of Big Mike's office, with both Big Mike and Chuck staring after her. It took almost a full minute before either of them found their tongues. "I still don't understand how you ended up with a piece like that, Bartowski, but who am I do deny a man his pleasures?" He thought for a minute. "You know," he said, "There's a tackle shop near the Miami pier that was one of the first in the country to get the new Reelco Spinner. I wonder if maybe you could stop by there for me?"

Since Chuck was taking vacation, there was no way Big Mike would approve Casey taking more than a week off at the same time, so Beckman had to arrange a call from Casey's sickly maiden aunt saying that she had taken a terrible spill and she needed her "Johnny Boy" to come and take care of her. When Emmit found out, he tried to cancel Chuck's vacation (more out of spite than necessity), but when Chuck told Big Mike that Ellie would be disappointed to hear that and hinted that Ellie might just stop her twice a month cookie deliveries to the Buy More break room, Big Mike put his foot down and said that, dammit, Bartowski deserved a little time alone with his lady.

Morgan was more of a problem. When he found out that Chuck was actually taking a vacation and _he_ wasn't invited, he spent the whole week in a blue funk. It was only when Sarah promised that she would let Morgan create a character for her for _World of Warcraft_ that he relented and "consented" to let Chuck go on the trip.

Ellie was beside herself. Only the fact that she had to work double shifts in order to get enough shifts traded to take the week off prevented her from dragging Sarah off to the mall every day to buy new outfits for the beach. Sarah protesting that she already had a couple swimsuits did not deter Ellie's insistence that she needed "just the right clothes" for this getaway. Sarah suspected that Ellie was hoping that getting Chuck and Sarah away from the craziness that was their lives in LA would get Chuck to consider "popping the question." Ellie clearly wanted Sarah as a sister-in-law and wasn't even trying to hide that fact.

The week flew by and before any of them knew it, it was early Monday morning. At six o'clock sharp there was a knock at the front door of Casa Bartowski and Chuck opened the door to find Sarah in a flowery sundress, a rolling suitcase behind her. "Good morning," she said with a half-yawn and gave Chuck a quick peck on the cheek. The door pushed open wider and Ellie elbowed Chuck aside to wrap Sarah in a hug. "Oh, I am so happy you're coming with us," Ellie beamed. She released Sarah and looked at the small suitcase that comprised the sum total of Sarah's luggage. "That's all you're bringing?" Ellie gasped.

"I like to travel light," Sarah replied, for some reason suddenly embarrassed by her lack of baggage.

"Oh, that just means we'll have to go shopping once we get to Miami." She squealed and wrapped Sarah in another hug.

"Hey, the Chuckster's lady has arrived!" Devon's voice boomed from the kitchen. "How about it, Sarah? Want some coffee?"

"Coffee would be great, thanks," Sarah said. "I'm not much of a morning person."

Chuck suppressed a grin, remembering finding Sarah's alarm clock pinned to her wall with a throwing knife. 'Not much of a morning person, indeed,' he thought.

True to form, Ellie had a breakfast casserole waiting and they all sat down to breakfast before the cab came to take them to the airport. Chuck and Sarah washed and dried the breakfast dishes while Ellie and Devon gathered up the bags and looked for the tickets, which somehow had been misplaced the night before. Finally, tickets in hand, bags in tow, and Ellie giggling like a schoolgirl, they piled into the minivan taxi Devon had arranged to take them to LAX.

Sarah felt a little naked at the airport since she could bring neither gun nor throwing knives with her when they boarded the plane. She hadn't been more than a few steps away from at least some kind of weapon since her and Chuck's 'real first date or second first date' had been interrupted by Mr. Cole. At least Casey had promised that he would meet them in Miami with a full set of the necessary accoutrement.

As a special surprise, Devon's parents, the Doctors Woodcomb, had traded in some of their innumerable frequent flier miles to get four first-class tickets for Ellie, Devon, Chuck and Sarah. (When you were as awesome as the Doctors Woodcomb, you were constantly flying around the world to speak at medical conferences). Ellie and Devon took the two seats on the right, while Chuck and Sarah took the two seats on the left. As they got on the plane, Sarah nodded slightly to the air marshal in the last row of first class. He was actually a CIA agent who had replaced the regular air marshal at the last minute to keep an extra set of eyes on "The Asset." Sarah let Chuck have the window seat since she knew he would want to catch all the landmarks as they flew across the country.

Fifteen minutes after the plane was in the air, Sarah was asleep on Chuck's shoulder. Chuck signed contentedly as he wrapped his arm around her, then he too was asleep. They were awoken by the pilot announcing that, if they looked out the left side of the aircraft, they could see the Grand Canyon. "Look, Sarah, the Grand Canyon," Chuck proclaimed excitedly. Sarah grinned. In so many ways, Chuck was still a little boy, all fascination and wonder at the world around him. A darker thought flashed across her mind. She sincerely hoped that being the Intersect didn't destroy that innocence and wonder.

They had lunch somewhere over Texas and touched down in Miami just before five o'clock, local time. Devon had arranged for a car to pick them up. Actually, the reservation had been intercepted and the driver was an agent who didn't know who the passengers were, only that he was to take "special care" of them.

The car dropped them at a large, ocean-side condominium. The Woodcomb timeshare was on the eighth floor. A bellman gathered their bags while Devon, who had been to the timeshare before, took them up to the condo. Sarah and Ellie both gasped when Devon opened the door and ushered them in. The entire far wall of the condo was glass, with a stunning view of the beach. The condo was tastefully furnished in comfortable, modern furniture with a huge plasma TV dominating one wall. Opposite the glass wall, on opposite sides of the entryway, were the kitchen and dining room. On either end of the living room were doors to the two bedrooms. "Chuck, you and Sarah take the bedroom to the right. Ellie and I will take the bedroom over here. Don't worry, the beds don't squeak when you're 'working out.'"

"Devon!" Ellie chided.

Chuck blushed but Sarah just smiled. "Come on, Chuck," she said. "Let's check out the bedroom." The bedroom had a king-sized bed, a love-seat, a dresser, two nightstands, and doors into a large bathroom and out onto a balcony overlooking the ocean.

"I guess Awesome's parents like to get away in style," Chuck said, taking in the room.

The bellman delivered their bags and Awesome took care of the tip. After the bellman deposited their bags in their room, Sarah went to the bedroom door and called to Ellie and Awesome, "I think we'll just freshen up a bit."

Awesome, standing in the doorway of his and Ellie's bedroom, grabbed Ellie around the waist and pulled her close. "Freshen up," he said. "I like the sound of that."

Sarah closed the bedroom door and turned on the television in the room. "Casey," she said softly, "You there?"

Casey's face appeared on the screen. Behind him Chuck could see a room very similar to their own, but outfitted "Casey style" with various equipment and heavy weaponry. "About time you too got here," Casey groused.

"Not enjoying your Miami vacation, Casey?" Chuck needled the grouchy agent.

"Put a sock in it, Bartowski," Casey growled. He turned his head ever-so-slightly to look at Sarah. "We've got video surveillance of the entire suite, plus the halls, the elevators, the lobby, the pool and the beach for two hundred yards either side of the building. Anything outside of that and we'll have to do it the old fashioned way. Oh, and I stored your kit in a false bottom in the third drawer of the wet bar in the living room. I didn't know which room you'd be in."

"Understood," Sarah replied. "You'll have to keep out of sight. It would be kind of hard to explain your presence in Miami to Ellie and Devon."

Casey gave a growl (number eighteen – I don't question _your_ skills). "If I can't tail you without two doctors on vacation seeing me, I'll turn in my NSA merit badge."

"Wow," Chuck interjected. "I don't know the NSA gave merit…" At a side-long glance from Sarah, Chuck stopped and looked at the ground. "Oh. Spy humor."

"Make sure you keep me up to date on your itinerary and make sure Bartowski keeps his GPS watch on."

"Geez, Casey," Chuck said. "We're on vacation, not a mission. Can't you relax?"

"Sure, Bartowski," Casey snarled. "Because all the bad guys happen to be in LA and there are no Fulcrum operative in Miami."

Chuck just threw up his hands and turned to start unpacking his suitcase.

Sarah gave him a glance, and then turned back to Casey. "We'll be here at the condo for a bit. I told Ellie and Devon we were freshening up."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Casey said.

Sarah ignored him. "My guess is we'll probably go out to dinner and then do a little wandering around. We've haven't discussed plans with Ellie and Devon yet, so you'll have to play it by ear."

"Understood. Casey out." The screen went blank.

Once it did, Chuck looked up at Sarah and grinned. "Are you at least going to try and enjoy the vacation?"

Sarah tried to look stern, but it was hard to be in 'agent mode' when Chuck was giving her his trademark grin. "Chuck," she said. "You need to understand. It's my job to protect you no matter where we are. I can't take a vacation from my responsibilities. I'm here to do my job, not for a vacation."

Chuck took her hand in his. His grin faltered for the briefest moment. Without her training, Sarah might not have caught it. But then it was back full force. "But that doesn't mean you can't have fun," he said in a sing-song voice. "Sun, sand, surf and no missions and no flashes for a week. Just you, me, Ellie, Devon and our two-hundred pound, bad-attitude guardian angel, John Casey."

Sarah couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, Chuck, I'll try to have some fun." Then, of course, the moment was broken when Sarah hurried out of the bedroom and came back with a black bag she had retrieved from the wet bar. She opened it and began to take out her throwing knives and several guns which she began to secret around the room.

Chuck considered asking whether all that was really necessary, but decided he didn't need another lecture, so he let it drop.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the bedroom door. Ellie had changed into a sundress and sandals and had a large straw hat. "Hi guys. Isn't this place wonderful? Devon's parents have used this place for years. Anyway, we were thinking of going out to get some dinner, and then maybe hit one of the clubs. What do you think?"

"That sounds great," Sarah said. "Give us a minute to change. Where were you thinking of for dinner?"

"Devon says there's a really great Cuban restaurant a couple block down, and then we thought we'd hit La Borracha for a little dancing."

"La Borracha," Sarah said. "The Drunk?"

"Is that really what it means?" Ellie said. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish, Sarah."

"Oh, just a little I picked up in High School," Sarah lied. "Ten minutes?"

"We'll be on the balcony," Ellie said.

Sarah changed in the bathroom, and then called Casey while Chuck went into the bathroom to change. "We're leaving to do dinner at a Cuban restaurant a couple blocks down the street, then to some club called 'La Borracha.'"

"The Drunk?" Casey asked. "You gotta love Miami. Do you know the name of the restaurant?"

"No," Sarah replied. "Ellie didn't say."

"Okay. Stall for a few minutes to give me time to run a locator and then get in position."

Chuck came out of the bathroom and saw Casey on the television. "Must be the NRA Channel," he quipped. Sarah rolled her eyes and Casey cut the connection mid-growl.

Sarah gave Chuck the once-over. Obviously Ellie had had a hand in his packing because he looked good in knit shirt, white pants and top-siders without socks. He looked good, Sarah thought with an inward sigh and suppressed the urge to reach out and smooth down a wayward curl. "Ready?" she asked.

"Let the vacation begin," Chuck said with a grin.

The Cuban restaurant was delicious. Chuck had tried to pick up the check, but Devon was faster. "This one's on me, bro. You can get the next one."

They were about to leave when Sarah caught a signal from Casey in the far corner of the restaurant. He was wearing the same wig and false soul patch he wore when he posed as a maitre di at the restaurant to which Chuck took his ex-girlfriend Jill. At his signal, Sarah turned to the rest of the group. "I need to powder my nose before we head over to the club," she said. That would give Casey time to get set up at the club.

"I'll go with you," Ellie said.

"We'll get a cab," Devon said. "Meet you lovely ladies outside." He gave Ellie a quick kiss, so Chuck felt compelled to do the same to Sarah. Darned the luck.

Ellie hooked her arm in Sarah's and led her to the ladies room. "Ooh," she gushed. "I am _so_ happy that you and Chuck could come with us. You know, I don't think Chuck has ever been on a vacation with a girl. Other than me, of course."

"Really," Sarah said. "He and Jill didn't ever take a vacation together?"

"I don't think so," Ellie said. "Besides, the less said about that witch the better." Sarah was a little taken aback at the venom in Ellie's tone. Ellie quickly changed the subject and the bubbly enthusiasm was back in her voice. "You know, at some point we're going to have to ditch the boys and do a little shopping. And Honey, Devon's mom, has booked us a package at the spa next to the condo on Wednesday." She grinned at Sarah. "Ooh, we're going to have so much fun. You have a sister, but I don't. So I'm adopting you."

Sarah thought back. That's right, she thought. While playing the game 'Know Ya' with Chuck, Morgan, Ellie and Devon, Sarah had said that her most dangerous moment was when she and _her sister_ had accidently put on baby oil instead of sun tan lotion. She had to change the subject fast before Ellie started asking too many question about her sister.

"A day at the spa sounds great, as long as you promise me that it's safe to leave Chuck alone with Devon. No para-sailing or spear fishing while we're getting pampered."

Ellie laughed. "While I have no doubt Devon will try, I don't think you have to worry about Chuck getting talked into anything life-threatening. Thankfully, Chuck is something of a coward when it comes to threats to life and limb."

'Oh, if you only knew,' Sarah thought. 'If you only knew.' But what she said was, "Of course. I don't know what I was thinking."

The club was a short taxi ride away. This time Chuck was a little quicker and paid the cabbie before Devon could. As they got out of the cab, Chuck whispered to Sarah. "Hey, since you're working, can we submit this on your expense account?" Sarah just gave him a dirty look.

"Hey, can't blame me for trying," Chuck grinned.

"Trying what?" Devon asked.

Sarah gave Devon a wink and Devon smiled. "Awesome, bro. Keep up the good work, my man."

Since it was a Monday night, there was thankfully no line to get in the club, but it was still crowded. Devon managed to spot a table in the corner and made a b-line for it. They sat down and ordered drinks. Devon and Ellie got up to dance while Chuck and Sarah waited for the drinks.

While they waited, Chuck looked around the club to see if he could spot Casey. As his gaze passed over a two men ducking into a private room on the far side of the club, a familiar feeling came over him. As he looked at the first man, a series of images flashed before his eyes. Then, almost immediately, he flashed on the man's companion.

"Oh boy. Oh boy." Chuck murmured.

Sarah recognized the slightly vacant look on Chuck's face, followed by the look of panic. "What is it, Chuck? Did you flash?"

"Bad man. _Two_ very bad men, just went into that room over there."

"Who were they Chuck?"

"The first guy was Enrique Obregon. Known drug trafficker. The DEA has been after him for years, but he's too small a fish for a major effort."

"And the second guy?" Sarah asked.

"He's the really scary one," Chuck said, his face pale. "His name is Michael Westen. He used to be a spy."


	2. A Day at the Beach

Thanks for the reviews. Seems like there are other Chuck fans out there that are also hooked on Burn Notice.

I noted, for the record, that when I checked to get the date of the Burn Notice premier, I found I was misspelling Michael Westen's name as "Weston." Sorry about that. I have corrected it.

I really did intend to have Michael Westen and crew show up in this second installment, but the story seemed to take on a life of its own and before I knew it I was up to 11 pages and still no Michael. He'll show up again next chapter, I promise.

I probably should have said it before, but I don't own either _Chuck_ or _Burn Notice_. More's the pity.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 2

A Day At the Beach

Sarah looked at Chuck incredulously. They were in a club in Miami called La Barracha with Ellie and Devon and Chuck had just flashed on a minor drug dealer named Enrique Obregon and an ex-spy named Michael Westen. "We have to get out of here," Sarah hissed.

"What?" Chuck yelled over the load music.

Sarah leaned into Chuck and said into his ear. "We have to get out of here. I worked an op with Michael Westen. He can I.D. me."

Chuck looked at her, his expression a mixture of fear, concern… and something else Sarah had trouble identifying. Sarah picked up her purse, grabbed Chuck's hand and led him out to the dance floor where Ellie and Awesome were dancing. "I have to go," Sarah yelled in Ellie's ear.

"What?" Ellie asked.

"I have to go," Sarah yelled, a little closer.

Ellie grabbed Sarah's hand and pulled her a little farther from the speakers so they could talk. Devon, a confused look on his face, followed; with Chuck trailing behind, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

Once they were in a corner where the music was a little quieter, Ellie turned to Sarah. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"

"I'm sorry," Sarah said. "It's the flight. I don't fly that often and when I do it really takes it out of me. It just hit me all of a sudden and it's like I just hit a wall. I really need Chuck to take me back to the condo. I'll be fine with a little sleep."

"You know, Sarah," Devon said. "It's the lack of humidity in the cabin. You need to drink lots of fluids when you fly, especially long flights. I can make you a nice ginseng and acacia shake. Fix you right up."

"Thanks, Devon," Sarah said. "I think I just need some sleep. You guys stay. Chuck and I will head back to the condo."

"No, no, no, no," Chuck said. "I think they should come with us. Get some rest, too." He motioned with his head toward the door Michael Westen and Enrique Obregon had gone through.

Sarah gave him a warning look. "They'll be fine," she said, then turned to Ellie. "I mean, we'll be fine. You guys have fun. We'll see you back at the condo."

Ellie gave Sarah a hug. "I hope you feel better."

Devon gave Chuck a slap on the back. "Take care of your lady, Chuck. Don't worry about us."

Chuck was about to protest, but Sarah grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the club. Once they were outside, Chuck looked at Sarah incredulously. "We can't leave Devon and Ellie in there with a drug lord and an ex-spy."

"Chuck," Sarah said. "They'll be fine. No one knows who they are. And I think you'd be hard pressed to find a club in Miami that didn't have at least one drug dealer in it. We'll go back to the condo and call it in."

"But…" Chuck started.

"Chuck. They'll be fine. If we pull them out, they'll get suspicious."

"But…" Chuck tried to continue, but Sarah simply turned away to hail a cab, and then hustled Chuck into it when it pulled up.

In the cab, Chuck whispered to Sarah. "You sure they'll be okay?"

"Trust me, Chuck," Sarah said.

Chuck got quiet for a moment, and then he turned to Sarah. "You said you worked with Michael Westen?"

She nodded. "We had an op together in Sarajevo," she said, keeping her voice low so the cab driver, blasting Cuban music over the radio, couldn't hear.

"So," Chuck said pensively. "You know him pretty well, huh?"

Noting Chuck's tone, Sarah turned to him. "What are you asking, Chuck?" There was anger in her voice. "We ran an op together. That's all."

"I just thought…" Chuck said, his voice trailing away.

"What, Chuck? That I slept with him? Look, just because Bryce and I… I don't know what kind of person you think I am, Chuck, but I don't sleep with every agent I work with."

"Sarah. I… It's not…" But Sarah had turned to look out the front window of the cab and was no longer looking at him. "I'm sorry," Chuck said in a very small voice.

"We'll call in the meeting between Westen and Obregon when we get back," Sarah said coldly. Chuck just slumped down on the car seat, his head hung low. It was a long ride back to the condo.

When they got back to the condo, Sarah waited for Chuck to unlock the door, then walked in and sat down on the couch without a word. Crestfallen, Chuck shut the door, then took a seat on the chair opposite her. "Sarah," he began.

"Not now, Chuck," she said, her voice hard.

They sat in stony silence for a few minutes until there was a knock on the door. Sarah looked out the peep hole, and then opened the door.

"What was that all about?" Casey asked, slipping in to the suite.

"Chuck flashed," Sarah explained. "There was a drug dealer named Enrique Obregon…"

"Drug dealers in Miami are a dime a dozen," Casey interrupted.

"And an ex-freelancer named Michael Westen," Sarah continued, annoyed at Casey's interruption.

"Westen," Casey said. "I've heard of him. Real badass, from what I've heard. Wasn't he burned? Didn't I see a burn notice on him?"

"Yes," Sarah replied. "A couple months before Bryce stole the Intersect."

"We need to report this," Casey said. "My room."

Casey opened the door to the condo and looked up and down the hall, then slipped out with Sarah and Chuck right behind him.

A few moments later, they stood in front of a large television screen in Casey's suite, on which was the familiar face of General Diane Beckman. Chuck glanced at his watch. It was after 10:00 p.m. and the General was still in her office, still in uniform and still looking as severe as ever. Didn't the woman ever go home?

"Michael Westen," the General was saying. "Freelance operative. He did work for the CIA, the NSA, the DIA, the DEA and several other agencies. A burn notice was issued June 28, 2007. He is considered extremely dangerous. His meeting with Obregon is worrisome. He could be looking to move into drug running or dealing."

"Recommend we pack up the asset and ship him back to LA," Casey opined.

"General," Sarah interjected. "That risks blowing Chuck's cover. There is no indication Westen saw us. It was obviously just a coincidence. We'll simply avoid that area."

"Too risky," Casey said. "A burned operative? He's probably already been recruited by Fulcrum."

"We have no evidence of that," Sarah said, turning toward Casey. "Chuck's sister and her fiancé will get suspicious if we pull out now. How will we explain leaving so suddenly to them?"

"Enough," Beckman cut in when Chuck stood to interject. "Keep an eye out for Westen, avoid the area, and keep the Intersect under cover as much as possible. You can stay for now, but if there is any indication that Westen knows Chuck is an asset, I'm pulling the plug on this whole vacation immediately. I will notify the proper authorities about the meeting between Westen and Obregon. Keep me informed as to any other developments."

Without another word, Beckman cut the connection.

"I still say we're better off packing up Bartowski in a shipping container and sending him back to LA," Casey grumbled.

Sarah rolled her eyes and said, "Come on Chuck. Let's get back to our suite before Ellie and Awesome show up." Then she turned to leave.

Chuck gave a glance around the room, which Casey had turned from a beachfront condo into a tactical operations center. "Love what you've done with the place, Casey," he said, before hurrying out the door after Sarah.

Back in their room, Sarah grabbed a nightshirt and headed into the bathroom to change. Chuck sat on the bed, looking forlornly at the bathroom door. A few minutes later, Sarah came out in a short nightshirt, her face scrubbed clean of make-up and her hair in a pony-tail. Chuck let out a breath when he saw her. Even without any makeup, Sarah was the most beautiful woman he had ever known. And he had screwed up with her… again.

"Sarah," he began.

"Get ready for bed, Chuck," Sarah responded.

Chuck grabbed a t-shirt and went into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. When he came out, Sarah was already in bed, the light on her side of the bed already turned off. Her back was to Chuck's side of the bed.

Chuck got into bed and turned out the light on his side. "I'm sorry," he said after a few moments of silence.

There was a long pause, and then Sarah turned to face him. To his surprise, there were tears in her eyes.

"Is that what you think of me?" Sarah asked. "That I sleep with everyone man work with?"

"No. God no," Chuck responded. He took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry. I guess I'm still freaked out over you and Bryce. I know I shouldn't be. But you… and Bryce of all people. I guess I'm just insecure."

"Chuck," Sarah said. "Didn't I prove during that whole Von Hayes mess that you aren't competing with Bryce, or with anyone else?"

Chuck couldn't look Sarah in the eyes. "I'm so sorry," Chuck repeated. "I didn't mean to imply…"

"Yes, you did," Sarah replied. She sighed. "Get some sleep. I'm sure Ellie and Awesome have a big day planned tomorrow." She rolled over and turned her back to Chuck, who stared at her back for several minutes more. He so wanted to reach out and touch her, but how could he? God, he could be so stupid sometimes. Why did he have to flash on that stupid Michael Westen? Why did he have to open his stupid mouth about it? At this rate, it was going to be a long week.

Sarah woke to an empty bed. Chuck was already up and she could hear him and Ellie in the condo's small kitchen, talking in low tones. Sarah got up, put on a robe that was hanging on the back of the bedroom door, and then stepped out of the bedroom.

"Good morning!" Ellie called when she saw Sarah. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thanks," Sarah said. "Flying just takes it out of me, you know? Sorry to be a party pooper last night." She stepped into the kitchen and gave Chuck a light kiss on the cheek. "Morning sweetie."

"Morning sweetie," Chuck said, a little self-consciously.

"No problem at all," Ellie said. "It's a pretty common problem. Devon and I didn't stay long either. I was pretty beat myself."

"Is that coffee I smell?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, of course," Chuck said, scrambling to pour Sarah a cup and fix it just the way she liked it: cream, no sugar.

"Devon went for a run," Ellie explained. "He should be back in a bit. I was cooking up some pancakes. They keep the refrigerator and pantry stocked for the guests."

"And I found some chocolate chips for them," Chuck said, holding up an open bag. "I know you like them in your pancakes." Although Sarah was still annoyed with him, it was kind of cute the way Chuck was falling all over himself to cater to her. He was like a puppy, with those soulful eyes looking so sad after last night. She felt herself melt a little, and then gave herself a little shake.

No. She reminded herself of why she was mad at him. How dare he imply that she had slept with Michael Westen? How dare he imply that she slept with all the agents she had worked with? Although… it had been tempting with Westen. He had a certain raw magnetism and confident cockiness that was hard to resist. If the assignment had lasted longer…

"Earth to Sarah," Chuck was saying, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Sorry," she said. "Not enough coffee yet."

The door burst open and Captain Awesome came through, shirtless as usual. "Nothing like an early morning run on the beach," he said. He gave Ellie a kiss and smiled at Chuck and Sarah. "You know, Sarah, you look like a runner. You should join me tomorrow morning."

"Oh, no, thanks," Sarah said. "I'm more of a Pilates kind of girl."

"Me too!" Ellie squealed. "We should start going together!"

Sarah stifled a groan. She hated Pilates. But she couldn't exactly admit that her normal workout involved kickboxing, judo, karate and several others of the martial arts. "That'd be great," she said, feigning cheerfulness.

"You know, didn't you pull a hamstring or something reaching up for that shelf at the Orange Orange?" Chuck said. "I thought they told you to take it easy on the Pilates for a week or two."

"Why didn't you call me when you hurt yourself," Ellie chided. "I would have been happy to look at it. It must have been a torn ligament if they wanted you to take it easy. You don't want to put too much stress on it or it will take longer to heal."

"Thanks, Ellie," Sarah said. "I didn't want to bother you. I know how people are always coming to their doctor friends for free advice. It must get old."

"Nonsense, Sarah," Ellie said. "You're practically family. Next time you'll come to me or Devon, promise?"

"I promise," Sarah said. Ellie turned back to the stove and Devon went to go towel off. Sarah turned to Chuck and mouthed, "Thank you." Chuck responded with a huge grin. 'Dammit,' Sarah thought. 'Why does he make it so hard to stay mad at him?'

"So what's the plan for today?" Sarah asked.

"Well, Devon wants to go parasailing or to rent some jet skis," Ellie said. "Big surprise. But I said I wanted to spend the day relaxing on the beach or by the pool."

"We're not going to spend all day at the beach, are we?" Chuck whined.

"Relax, little brother," Ellie laughed. "I know how much you love sitting around in the sun, so we'll do a little sight-seeing or something, too."

Sarah laughed. Chuck didn't seem like the 'sun himself on the beach' all day type, especially if his complexion was any indication.

After breakfast, Chuck insisted on doing the dishes while Sarah, Ellie and Awesome changed into their swim gear. Then he changed into some trunks and a ComicCon t-shirt and came out with a bag full of sunscreen, a beach towel, a floppy hat, his iPod, his PSP, and a couple books. "Ready?" he asked. Sarah and Ellie were in beach wraps with bags of their own. Devon was in trunks and flip-flops with a beach towel thrown over his shoulder.

They headed down to the beach and staked out a spot with two big beach umbrellas and beach chairs. Chuck started to pull his gear out of his bag, but was brought up short when Sarah put down her bag and pulled off her beach wrap. She was clad in a tiny teal bikini that highlighted her eyes wonderfully, not that most men would be looking at her eyes.

She looked at Chuck and grinned. "You're staring," she chided him.

"Sorry. Sorry. Um. Nice swimsuit."

"Thank you," she said, and spread her blanket on the chair before sitting down.

Chuck shook himself a little, and then proceeded to slather himself with sunscreen – spf 50. At a raised eyebrow from Sarah he said, "I burn easily." He set his iPod and PSP on the table beside his chair, along with a copy of Jim Butcher's _Small Favor_ and the strategy guide to "Call of Duty: World at War."

He flopped in his chair next to Sarah and picked up _Small Favor_. For some reason, although he loved the Dresden Files books, he couldn't really get into it. He kept glancing next to him where Sarah lay with eyes closed on her beach chair.

Even though her eyes were closed, a small smile played across Sarah's lips the fiftieth time he looked over. "Why don't you go play Frisbee with Devon," she asked without opening her eyes, "since you're obviously not getting any reading done?"

"I… Well… Okay," he responded, with the expression of a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. He got up and trudged through the sand toward Devon.

Ellie looked over at Sarah, smiled, and gave her a wink. Sarah just smiled back.

About half an hour later, Sarah opened her eyes when a shadow fell across her. She was expecting it to be Chuck, but there was a blonde-haired, muscle-bound jock standing over her, ogling her. His companion was eyeing Ellie. "You're blocking my sun," Sarah said coldly.

"Hi," the jock said, flashing a mouthful of perfect white teeth. "I'm Mike. It looked like you could use someone to help you put on a little more lotion."

Ellie sat up and looked around for Devon. He and Chuck were a little way off, playing beach volleyball with two other guys. At least Devon was playing. Chuck was mostly trying to keep out of Devon's way. Ellie was about to get up when Sarah said, "I'm fine, thanks."

"Mighty fine, from where I'm standing," Mike said, leaning over Sarah.

"No thanks, really," Sarah said.

Now Mike was squatting next to Sarah's beach chair, picking up her bottle of lotion. "But I insist. Can't have you getting sunburned. I want your screams to be pleasure, not pain."

It was hard for Ellie to really catch what happened next. One minute Sarah was lying there on the chair, the jock squatting over her. The next moment Sarah leaned back on the top of the chair and the far end swung up quickly and clipped Mike the Jock under the chin. His head flew back, then snapped forward just in time for the end of the chair to whack him on the top of the head. He fell face-first into the sand. Devon and Chuck came running up as Mike's friend helped him to his feet. There was a cut on the bottom of his chin and sand all over his face. He looked more than a little dazed. Somehow, Sarah was on her feet, looking down at him.

"Really ought to have that looked at," Devon said in his best doctor voice. "May need a stitch or two."

"I'm fine," Mike said, stumbling away. "Fine."

Ellie scrambled to Sarah. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Sarah said innocently. "I don't know what happened. I was just trying to get away from him. I guess I sat on the wrong part of the chair when I did. I hope he's going to be okay."

Chuck was staring at Sarah, open-mouthed, and this time it had nothing to do with her bikini. It was the quickest take-down he had ever seen from her.

Ellie out her hand over her mouth and tried hard not to laugh. "Oh Sarah," she said. "That was awesome! I hope he's going to be okay but…" she looked over her shoulder at the jock stumbling down the beach, supported by his friend. "He got exactly what he deserved."

"Awesome," Devon added.

Sarah looked over at the retreating pair with disgust. "Do they really pick up women with those lines?" she asked. "Good thing I have a real man and don't have to deal with that." She put an arm around a surprised Chuck's waist. "How about we take a dip in the ocean?"

Chuck looked a little stunned as Sarah led him toward the water. Devon put an arm around Ellie and she leaned up to give him a kiss. When they looked back, it was impossible to miss the little swagger in Chuck's step as he and Sarah made their way to the water. "Shall we, babe?" Devon asked. Then he quickly scooped Ellie up in his arms and carried her shrieking with laughter toward the waves.

They had lunch by the pool, then gave into Devon and went jet-skiing that afternoon. Chuck let Sarah drive and, despite her intention to retain her cover, she got a little competitive when Devon started racing her. She slalomed through their agreed-upon course with deft precision, with Chuck arm's locked in a death-grip around her waist as he struggled not to fall off. She crossed the finish line a full thirty seconds ahead of Devon and Ellie, and then throttled to a stop with Chuck panting loudly in her ear. "Don't ever do that again," he gasped.

Devon slewed to a stop beside them, Ellie shrieking with delight. "That was awesome, Sarah," he said. "Where'd you learn to handle a jet ski like that?"

Thinking quickly, Sarah gave Devon a sheepish grin. "Well," she said. "There's this jet ski game at the arcade that Chuck likes to go to. While he's doing all those boring shoot-em-up games, I like to play that one. I guess it really is good training for the real thing."

"Awesome," Devon said again, but Ellie lit into Chuck. "Chuck," she chided. "I can't believe you're really taking Sarah to the arcade and making her wait while you and Morgan shoot zombies or dinosaurs or whatever."

"Its okay, Ellie," Sarah said. "I ask Chuck to take me. And he doesn't try to make me play all those gun games. We have fun."

Ellie gave them a dubious look, but dropped it. Chuck stifled a grin (which was easier to do than normal since he was still half-terrified from the race). The last time he and Sarah had gone to the arcade, Sarah had played every shooting game in the place and complained that they weren't challenging enough.

That night they had dinner at Shula's Steakhouse in the Alexander Hotel. Chuck paled a little at the bill when it came, but Sarah slipped him some cash on the sly to care of the tab. Instead of clubbing, Ellie suggested a moonlight walk on the beach, to which Chuck readily assented. Sarah feigned satisfaction with the idea, but inwardly was uncomfortable spending time with Chuck, her asset, in such a romantic setting. Yes, she was still mad at him; but the double dose of Bartowski magic – from both Chuck and Ellie – was wearing her down. Chuck was trying so hard all day to be solicitous, knowing he was in the doghouse, and Ellie was so pleased to have Sarah along that she couldn't contain herself.

After the beach and a glass of wine on the balcony at the condo, the two couples got ready for bed. Sarah insisted that Chuck get ready first, while she made a report to Beckman and checked in with Casey. Casey congratulated her on the takedown of the jock and asked if she wanted a copy of the tape for her collection. She considered telling Casey what he could do with the tape, but then decided that she was rather proud of the move and, to his chagrin, told him to email it to her CIA mailbox.

Chuck came out in his boxers and a t-shirt after she finished her report and she went into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. When she came out, Chuck was sitting on the end of the bed waiting for her.

"I had a good time today," he said.

"Me too," she replied.

"Listen," he said. "About last night."

"Chuck…" she began.

"Please, Sarah," he replied. "Let me finish. Yes, I admit the thought crossed my mind that you and that Michael Westen guy might have…" He shook his head as if clearing it. "Anyway, I saw his file when I flashed. He's like this super agent. Handsome, charming, deadly… a real spy's spy, if that makes any sense." He sighed heavily. "It's just… I wasn't trying to accuse you of anything. I just… Guys like him and Bryce. They make me feel so inadequate. I mean, I know how all the girls went for Bryce when we were in college and if I were a girl…"

Sarah laid a hand on Chuck's arm. "Chuck," she said. "Yes. I'm still hurt by what you said. Or rather, implied. It's a touchy subject with me. And yes, Michael Westen is charming and very competent. But no, I didn't sleep with him. Don't sell yourself short, Chuck. You may not be a superspy, but you have other, very important qualities. I wouldn't trade you for a dozen Bryce Larkins or Michael Westens."

Chuck, who had been looking at the floor, looked up at her, a wan smile on his face. She could tell he didn't know whether to believe her or not. She continued. "That being said, what you said, or rather implied, hurt. It showed that at least a part of you doesn't respect me for me."

"Sarah, I respe…" Chuck began.

"Chuck," Sarah said, cutting him off. "We both have a lot of baggage, just like I told you on our first date. But I also told you to trust me. Trust me, Chuck, and trust in yourself. You have a lot to offer a girl." She looked into his eyes. "Someday you'll find someone worthy of you."

"I already have," he whispered, so low that she couldn't be sure she heard him correctly.

"Let's go to bed," she said.

They got in bed, backs to each other again. But somehow, the bed didn't seem nearly as cold as the night before.


	3. His name is Michael Westen

Still don't own _Chuck_ or _Burn Notice_

Thanks again for the reviews. Keep them coming.

**Chuckfan132** suggested, for those of you who have not watched _Burn Notice_, that I include a brief summary of that show so those folks can know what's going on. My plan was to include enough information in the story, but just in case, **Chuckfan132**'s suggestion has been taken to heart. _Burn Notice_ began in June, 2007. The lead character is Michael Westen. He is a spy, but does not work for the CSA or the NSA. More of a freelancer. In the pilot, he is negotiating a deal and when he makes a call to transfer the cash, he is told "We got a burn notice on you. You're blacklisted." He explains (in voiceover) that when a spy is fired, he does not get a letter from HR; they don't want to kill him but they don't want him using his skills for the opposition. So they freeze his bank accounts and credit and drop him in a city where he has to stay or be subject to arrest. Michael Westen is an honorable man and his burn notice is the result of a mysterious cabal that wants to use him for a future job. The overarching arc of the series is him trying to find out who issued his burn notice and get it lifted. In the meantime, he is stuck in Miami (his hometown) and has to put up with his demanding mother. In between trying to find out about his burn notice, he helps people using his spy skills (kind of like The Equalizer, if any of you remember that show.) He is assisted by his ex-girlfriend, Fiona Glenanne, an ex-bank robber and gun-runner for the IRA (and the source of the series UST with Michael) and Michael's old friend Sam Axe, a former Navy Seal and spy who has retired to Miami and makes his "living" by seducing rich widows who give him cars, cash, etc. for his "favors." In the beginning of the series, Sam spied on Michael for the FBI because the government froze his pension. Michael also has a ne'er do well brother, Nate who also lives in Miami. A fun spy series. A little darker than Chuck in that Michael is not afraid to get bad guys killed to help the "little guy" or to do some rather shady things, but he seems compelled to help those in need when there is no one else to help them.

Now, on with our story.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 3

His Name is Michael Westen – He Used to Be a Spy

Wednesday morning, Sarah was actually the first one up. She eased out of bed so as not to wake Chuck and went into the kitchen to start the coffee. She opened the refrigerator and considered starting breakfast, but the only breakfast she knew how to make was country sausage with syrup wrapped in pancake on a stick. She was contemplating trying to scramble some eggs when the other bedroom door opened and Ellie and Captain Awesome came strolling out. Devon, of course, was in his jogging shorts and a muscle shirt. Ellie was in a bathrobe.

"Mornin', Sarah," Devon said in his perpetually cheerful voice. "Sure you don't want to join me for a run?" Considering she hadn't had her coffee yet, Sarah briefly considered hurling one of the butter knives at him, but decided it would be too messy.

"No, thank you, Devon. I'm good."

"Then I'll see you ladies in about six point two miles," Devon said. "Just a warm-up run this morning."

"Have fun sweetie," Ellie said and gave the Captain a kiss.

"Good morning, Sarah. Thanks for making the coffee."

"Sure," Sarah said. "I was thinking about starting breakfast, but you've eaten my cooking at the Wienerlicious." Just saying the name of her old cover job gave Sarah a shudder.

"No problem. I'll show you how to make French toast with strawberries. It's one of Chuck's favorites."

Ellie was a patient teacher, and the French toast came out pretty well. Ellie seemed delighted to be teaching Sarah how to cook and, to her surprise, Sarah actually enjoyed learning how from Ellie.

The bedroom door opened and a yawning Chuck, his hair making those adorable animal shapes, came out. "Do I smell French toast?"

"Sarah made it," Ellie announced proudly.

When Chuck's expression changed from excited to dubious, Sarah threw the dish towel at him. "Ellie helped me, so quit making faces, mister," she said.

"I… I'm sure it's delicious," Chuck said.

"Of course it is," Ellie said. "It's made with love." Both Sarah and Chuck blushed at that comment.

"I'll, um, set the table," Chuck said quickly.

Just as the table was set and the food was being put on the table, the front door opened and Devon came in. "Whoa, French toast! Awesome."

"How does he do that?" Chuck asked.

"What?" Ellie asked.

"Come in just as breakfast is ready."

"Food radar, my man," Devon said. "I can smell Ellie's French toast three miles away.

"Actually, Sarah made it this morning," Ellie said proudly.

"Sarah did," Devon said slowly.

"Ellie helped," Devon said.

"Well then, let's eat. I'm starved," Devon said. Sarah gave him a dirty look which Devon wisely pretended not to see.

***************************************

After breakfast, Devon was off to go parasailing, while Ellie and Sarah went to their appointment at the salon. Chuck said that he was going to go down to the tackle shop and pick up Big Mike's Reelco Spinner. "After all," Chuck said, "Ferengi Rule of Acquisition Number 33: It never hurts to suck up to the boss."

Sarah gave him a peck on the cheek as she left and whispered in his ear, "Make sure you take Casey with you or he'll handcuff you to the bed."

"I thought that was his and Carina's shtick," Chuck whispered back, causing Sarah to chuckle.

**************************************

Sarah enjoyed the day at the spa much more than she thought she would. While Sarah had often stayed in elegant hotels as part of her cover, and attended lavish parties, she had never had a day of pampering all of her own.

Ellie gushed about how they would have to do it again the day before the wedding. Sarah managed to deflect most of Ellie's personal questions, especially the not-so-subtle hints about Chuck and Sarah's future.

They got back to the room just before five. Chuck was the couch playing on his PSP and Devon was watching a ballgame on television. Devon jumped to his feet when the two walked in. "On your feet, soldier," he said, prodding Chuck. "Two luscious babes at twelve o'clock."

Ellie smiled broadly and went over to throw her arms around Devon's neck and give him a sloppy kiss. Chuck was standing open-mouthed, just staring at Sarah.

"You… you look great," he stammered. Sarah came over and gave him a kiss. To maintain their cover, she told herself.

"I was telling the Chuckster the bad news," Devon said when his kiss from Ellie finally ended. "I ran into Paul and Rachel Rubens, Mom and Dad's doctor friends who have the condo two floors down. They insisted on us joining them for dinner." He turned to Sarah. "Don't worry, I told them you and Chuck had other plans. No sense inflicting you with Paul and Rachel."

"Oh, honey," Ellie whined. "Do we have to?"

"I'm afraid so, hon," Devon replied. "Mom and Dad told them we were coming and made them promise to take us out, so we might as well get it over with. Sorry."

"Well," Ellie said. "At least you two can go have fun. You probably didn't want to spend _all_ your time with us anyway. You two need some time alone this vacation."

*************************************************

When Ellie and Devon trudged out to their dinner date with the Rubens, Chuck was sitting on one end of the couch with Sarah at the other end, her feet resting in Chuck's lap. Chuck was admiring Sarah's pedicure and threatening to tickle her feet. Sarah was giggling when Ellie and Devon came out of their bedroom.

"Oh, aren't they cute?" She said Devon. "What are you two going to do tonight?"

"I saw a great looking seafood place on the way to the tackle shop," Chuck said. He turned to Sarah, "I was just about to ask you if you wanted to try it."

"Um, sure," Sarah said.

"Well, have fun," Ellie said. Then giving Devon a glance she said, "I know we won't."

After they were gone, Sarah said, "You know, Chuck, we don't have to go anywhere. It's not like we have to maintain our cover if Ellie and Awesome aren't around."

"Come on, Sarah," Chuck whined. "We're on vacation. Let's go out and have a little fun." When she looked dubious, he quickly added. "We can even ask Casey to come along, if that would make you feel better."

"Oh yeah," Sarah said. "Because he's Mister Fun."

They both had a laugh at that.

*********************************************

After changing, they called Casey to let them know that they were going out to a restaurant. He told them to give him five minutes to get set up at the restaurant and then they could go.

The restaurant had open air tables out front and some other tables inside. Unfortunately, all the open air tables were filled when they arrived, so they ended up at a table inside.

As they looked over the menu, Chuck asked, "Did you and Ellie have a good time today."

"Yes," Sarah answered. "Although she seems pretty anxious to know what my intentions are toward you."

Chuck looked up at her and smiled that grin that made her toes tingle. "And just what are your intentions toward me, Miss Walker?" he asked.

She smiled back and was just about to answer when Chuck's eyes went wide. "What is it?" she asked.

"Bad guy at your six," he said.

Sarah casually turned around to see Michael Westen coming out of the bathroom. There was a scraping sound as Casey, sitting in the back of the restaurant, pushed out his chair and got to his feet. Westen turned, saw Casey stand, and immediately darted out the front door.

"Stay here," Sarah commanded and took off after Westen.

"Stay," Casey commanded as he passed by the table."

Chuck turned to watch them run out. Just as Casey cleared the corner, a man and a woman ran past the front of the restaurant, following Casey. Chuck had a rare double flash.

The woman was Fiona Glenanne, a former IRA bank robber and gun-runner and a known associate (i.e., former girlfriend) of one Michael Westen. The man, slightly older and a step slower than Fiona Glenanne, was Sam Axe, a former Navy Seal and Military Intelligence operative, also a known associate of Michael Westen. "Stay, Chuck," Chuck told himself. "Sarah and Casey both told you to stay. They can… Oh hell."

He jumped to his feet and ran out the restaurant and after Fiona and Sam.

*********************************************

Michael Westen was fast, but Sarah was just as fast. He ran down the street, dodging pedestrians and darting around corners, trying to lose his pursuer. At one corner, one of his two pursuers cut down a side street – evidently in an attempt to cut him off.

Unfortunately, Michael turned down a blind alley – a dead end. Coming up against the stucco wall at the end of the alley, he stopped, put his hands on his head, and slowly turned around.

His eyes went wide when he saw the beautiful blonde with the gun pointed at his head. "Amanda?" he asked. "Amanda Carstairs?"

"Hello, Michael," she said, a little out of breath. "Why are you following us?"

"Following you?" he said incredulously. "Why would I be following you? I haven't seen you since Sarajevo." He paused, realization dawning on his face. "Wait a minute. You're the one who ruined my operation last night. You saw me and called in the DEA."

Sarah was about to answer when she heard a gun cock just behind her head. "Put the gun down, sweetie, and no one has to get hurt. Well, too badly anyway." Michael smiled over Sarah's shoulder at Fiona. "You two know each other?" she asked as Sarah slowly put her gun on the ground.

"Fi, behind you," Michael started to shout when John Casey came barreling around the corner, his gun held at Fiona's head.

"Drop it," Casey demanded. "Federal agent. Up against the wall. Both of you."

"Damn," Michael said, turning around to face the wall. Fiona dropper her weapon and was just raising her hands and Sarah lowering hers when another voice rang through the alley. The speaker was out of breath, but he gasped out, "No. Put your hands up."

It was Casey's turn to mutter "Damn" when yet another voice rag through the alley. "No," it said in the unmistakable commanding tone of Agent Charles Carmichael. "I think you better put _your_ hands up."

In the confusion, Fiona whirled and slammed a fist into Sarah's jaw. Sarah, stunned for a moment, recovered quickly and whirled in a roundhouse kick that caught Fiona squarely on the side of the head. Fiona staggered back, then jabbed at Sarah with her left. Sarah blocked it, but Fiona followed with a quick right that caught Sarah in the stomach. Sarah swept Fiona's leg and she went down, but not before tangling Sarah's leg with her own, causing Sarah to fall as well. Sarah jabbed an elbow quickly into Fiona's stomach, followed by a jab to the head which Fiona dodged, then swung for Sarah's throat. Sarah blocked the thrust and was just about to bring the side of her hand up into Fiona's nose when a loud 'bang; caused them both to stop and look up.

Sam Axe had his gun raised over his head, smoke rising lazily out of the barrel. "You know," he drawled. "As much as I like some good girl on girl action, it's not the same without mud or jello."

Casey looked over at Sam and gave grunt number forty-two (I wish I'd have thought of that." He had his gun trained on Michael, but he kept glancing over at Sam. Chuck was standing next to Sam, his mouth agape.

Sam lowered his gun and nodded his head toward Casey. "Michael, I'd like you to meet John Casey, NSA, and old friend of mine. Casey, Michael Westen, another old friend. Oh, and the one on the ground is Fiona Glenanne. She's a friend of Michael's."

Sarah picked up her gun and trained it on Fiona. "Damn," Fiona said. "It was just gettin' interesting."

Sarah glared at Fiona, then walked over to Chuck and hissed quietly at him," I thought I told you to stay put."

Sam glanced down the alleyway where a small crowd was starting to gather. "Can I suggest we take this somewhere more private?"

"Take what?" Sarah asked. "We're taking you in."

"Walker, wait," Casey said unexpectedly.

"What?" she asked.

"Sam Axe is an old friend. He saved my life… twice. Let's hear what he has to say."

"You're kidding, right?" Sarah asked.

Casey's face took on a look of intense concentration and he managed to spit out one of the hardest words in his vocabulary. "Please?" he managed through gritted teeth.

"Guys, we're kind of attracting attention," Chuck warned.

"Fine," Sarah said. "But only if they," she jerked her head toward Michael and Fiona, "surrender their weapons."

Fiona smiled, a predatory smile. "Fine," she said, picking up her gun by the barrel and holding it toward Chuck. "But only if _he_ holds them."

"He's got an honest face," she explained to Michael, who slowly drew his gun and handed it, butt first, to Chuck. Chuck handled the weapons as if they would go off at any moment, causing Fiona to grin. Sarah stopped and took the weapons long enough from Chuck to check the safeties, then handed them back.

"Be careful," she hissed.

"Well I didn't…" Chuck started to protest, but Sarah simply turned and walked away.

**************************************

Sam Axe led the way down the alley, flashing open his wallet as if it were a badge. "Police business," he said. "Nothing to see here, folks. Move it along."

The crowd disbursed and Sam turned to the little band behind him in the alley. "I know this little bar around the corner. Plenty of privacy." He turned to Casey and grinned. "And since Casey's no doubt on an expense account, he's buying."

Casey merely growled in response. Fiona hooked her arm in Michael's and followed Sam out of the alley. Casey and Sarah followed close behind, and Chuck sheepishly brought up the rear.

Sam led them three blocks down to a small bar. He stopped and motioned for the rest to enter. Casey stopped next to him and looked down at the older man. "Swear to me Sam. This is all on the up and up."

Sam held his hand over his heart. His voice lost its usual joking lilt. "On my honor, John."

They filed in and took a large table in the back. Michael, Fiona and Sam took one side of the table; Sarah, Casey and Chuck took the other. Michael looked calm; Fiona and Sarah looked pissed; Sam was smiling; Casey was frowning (but then when wasn't he); and Chuck looked scared to death.

"All right," Casey said. "Somebody start talking."

Sam took the lead. "John Casey, this is Michael Westen and Fiona Glenanne. And these are?" He looked expectantly at Sarah and Chuck.

"Amanda Carstairs," Michael said, looking directly at Sarah. "She and I did an op together in Sarajevo in 2005."

"It's Sarah Walker," Sarah said, holding Michael's gaze. There was a long pause while they seemed to be sizing each other up.

Finally Chuck broke the silence. "Carmichael," he said. "Charles Carmichael."

"Well," Casey growled, "Now that we're all nice and cozy how about you tell me what the hell is going on."

"Why are you following us?" Sarah asked Michael.

"Following you?" Michael asked. "You're the one's following me. Or wasn't it you who called the DEA to have my meeting busted up last night."

"What meeting?" Casey asked.

"I was meeting with… a potential business associate," Michael said.

"That's it. I've heard enough," Casey said, starting to stand. "I'm taking you all in."

"Wait," Michael said. He looked over at Sam, who nodded.

"Look. The truth," he said. "I was meeting with Enrique Obregon. He's a minor drug runner and dealer here in Miami." He gave a sigh as if reluctant to go on, but Sam gave him another nod.

"Six days ago, my brother Nate came to me with a problem. He was dating this girl, Emily Harrington. Emily has a sister, Rachel. Rachel's nineteen and Rachel met a guy at a club. He was charming, he flashed a lot of money, and he was very nice to Rachel. After they went out a few times, he asked Rachel if she had a passport. When she said yes, he asked her to do him a favor. He needed her to pick up a package for him out of the country."

"A mule," Casey said with disgust.

"Right," Michael said.

"What's a mule?" Chuck asked.

"A mule is someone who smuggles a small amount of drugs into the country," Sarah explained.

"Right," Michael said again. "The guy was Obregon. Rachel tried to say 'no,' but he threatened her and her family. So he made her swallow a balloon of heroin to smuggle it in." Chuck turned pale.

"After she did it once, Obregon told her she'd have to keep doing it or the police would find out and she'd be arrested. Then last week, Rachel disappeared. Emily and Nate staked out the airport and saw her come in on a flight, but they lost her after she left the airport."

"This Obregon is a real scumbag," Sam cut in. "My friends downtown tell me they think he might have eight to ten young girls that he uses as mules. He's got them locked up, but no one can figure out where. One of his mules is in jail, but she's too scared to testify against Obregon. Two more died when the balloon of heroin he made them swallow burst before they could pass it."

Chuck now started breathing hard to try to keep his lunch from coming back up.

"So what did they expect you to do?" Casey asked.

"Since I got to Miami, I've developed a reputation for… helping people. I promised Nate and Emily that I would find Rachel and the other girls and set them free, and make sure that Obregon didn't bother them anymore." His face became hard and he looked over at Sarah. "I had almost convinced him that I was a drug runner and I could move ten to twenty times the product he was moving with his mules with little to no risk to him, so I could get on the inside. We were having a meeting last night to finalize an arrangement when your DEA friends busted through the door. Obregon made it out the back. I was taken in, but they had nothing to hold me on and had to let me go."

"And so you lovely people have blown a perfectly good op and endangered the lives of those poor girls," Fiona added for good measure.

"Why didn't Nate and Emily go to the police?" Sarah asked.

"Come on Amanda… I mean Sarah. You know how the DEA works. They'd bring Obregon in for questioning and while he was locked up his associates would kill the girls to erase the evidence."

"And you think you can get the girls out?" Sarah asked.

"I thought so," Michael said, "until the whole operation was botched by that raid. Now there's no way Obregon is going to trust me. We're going to have to find a new angle."

"What if we helped?" Chuck asked.

Sarah and Casey both turned toward him and said simultaneously, "What?"

Sarah grabbed Chuck's arm and pulled him away from the table, followed closely by Casey. "What the hell are you doing, Chuck?" she hissed.

"Sarah," Chuck said. "It's my fault. If I hadn't flashed on Westen and Obregon, then Beckman wouldn't have called the DEA and Michael there could have gotten those girls out. We _have_ to help him."

"No, we don't," Sarah said. "You are too valuable an asset to risk on something like this. Beckman would never approve. Besides, Michael Westen has been burned. Casey and I could get in serious trouble just for talking to him, let alone helping him."

Sarah turned to Casey for confirmation, but Casey was looking at Sam Axe.

"Give me a minute," he said. He stepped over to the side and motioned Sam over to him.

"Sam," Casey said. "Give it to me straight. Is this Westen character on the up and up?"

"On my honor as a Seal, Casey. Since he's gotten here, he's helped a lot of people."

"What about his burn notice? I glanced at the file. It ain't pretty."

Sam turned his back to Michael so Michael couldn't see what Sam was telling Casey. "Mikey's no rogue," Sam said. "The burn notice was a setup. He'd kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but some really bad people engineered the burn notice so they could get Mikey to do some nasty stuff. They've tried to get him to dance to their tune, but he's trying to figure out who they are and what they want so he can get the burn notice lifted. He's had some success, but he's got a ways to go."

"And the girls?" Casey asked.

"Look, buddy," Sam said. "You know I wouldn't lie to you about that. Not about something like that. Not with your… with _our_ history. Look. You don't have to help. But at least turn away and let me, and Fiona and Michael help these girls."

To Sarah's surprise, instead of coming back to her and Chuck, Casey stepped over to the table and sat down. "Count me in," he said.

Sarah grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from the table. "What the hell are you doing, Casey? He's a rogue! He's probably been recruited by Fulcrum by now. I don't care what you think about this Sam Axe, he made not be the same guy who saved your life. Aren't the one that told me that twenty years in the business had taught you that people let you down in the end?"

"Look," Casey said. "No one's asking you to go along. But I _have_ to do this."

"Dammit, Casey," Sarah said. "You still don't get it. You're my _partner_. If you're in… I have to be in, too."

Casey looked down at Sarah. He'd never admit it, but she was the best partner he's ever had. "Beckman will have our heads," he said.

"One more thing to add to the list," Sarah replied. "What about Chuck?"

"If he promises to stay in the car, the nerd just might be useful," he said. "Tell him I said that and I take a piece out of your hide."

"As if," Sarah smiled.

"Which?" Casey asked. "Chuck staying in the car or me taking a piece out of your hide?"

"Both," Sarah replied.

Sarah and Casey walked back over to the table. Chuck followed them. All three sat down. "We're _all_ in," Sarah said. She looked over at Chuck. He was beaming.

"On one condition," Sarah said. "I have to bring in a friend from the DEA to assist."

Casey looked over at her and started shaking his head. "No. Not her."

"It's the only way I don't go to Beckman and blow the whistle, Casey. I want someone with DEA experience on this operation or it's no go."

"Not her," Casey moaned weakly.

"What's the matter, Casey," Sarah teased. "Did you leave the clover boxers at home?"

Chuck got a deer in the headlights look on his face as well. "You're not," he said.

"Yes," Sarah said. "We bring in Carina or its 'no go.' As long as she gets credit for the bust, she'll go along."

"Who's Carina?" Michael asked.

"Just shoot me now," Casey moaned.

*******************************************

_Come on. With a drug dealer in the story you knew I had to bring in Carina, didn't you?_


	4. A Redhead Appears

Nope. Haven't gotten the rights to _Chuck_ or _Burn Notice_ yet.

A little shorter chapter, but everyone seemed so anxious to get to Carina that I thought I'd go ahead and indulge myself.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 4

Combining the Teams

or

A Redhead Appears

Six people sat around a table in a small, out of the way bar, three on each side: Sarah Walker, Chuck Bartowski (who introduced himself as Charles Carmichael), and John Casey on one side; Michael Westen, Fiona Glenanne and Sam Axe on the other. From their body language, it was clear that neither group quite trusted the other.

John Casey and Chuck Bartowski were looking at Sarah. "Are you sure it's a good idea to bring in Carina?" Chuck asked. Chuck was a little nervous around Carina, what with her almost getting him killed and then trying to seduce him.

"If we're getting involved in an unsanctioned operation against a drug dealer, we need a DEA agent on board. That way, if something goes south, it gives us at least a modicum of cover," Sarah explained.

"Who's Carina?" Michael asked.

Sarah turned to him. "Carina is an exceptional, if somewhat unorthodox, field agent. She has an excellent record, but she has a tendency to… improvise."

"Sounds like she'll fit right in," Sam said, glancing toward the bar and wondering why the bartender hadn't come over to get them drinks yet.

"You think she'll play ball?" Michael asked. "My methods lately are not exactly… orthodox."

"Nothing about Carina is orthodox," Sarah explained. "If she can get credit for a bust, she'll take it. I just hope she's available."

"Listen," Michael said looking around. "Perhaps this isn't the best place to discuss this. Why don't we take this back to my place. It's secure."

"But Michael," Sam protested. "You're out of beer."

As they stood up to exit the bar, Chuck asked, "Can we order pizza?" Everyone stopped to look at him. "What?" he asked. "We didn't get a chance to eat dinner."

As they started to exit the bar, Chuck stopped Michael and Fiona. "You might want these back," he said, holding out their guns to them. "Why thank you, Charles. You are a gentleman, aren't you?" Fiona said. Much to Chuck's discomfort, she stuck the gun in the back of her waistband and then put her arm in Chuck's giving Michael an innocent smile.

Michael rolled his eyes and looked over at Sarah, who looked like she was ready to start round two with Fiona. Michael hurried over to Sarah and stepped between her and Fiona. "You're looking well," Michael said. "We didn't get a chance to say goodbye in Sarajevo."

"Well," Sarah said with a dark-eyes glance at Fiona, "we were kind of busy trying to dodge that Serbian death-squad." She turned and started walking out of the bar.

Michael followed her, trailed by Chuck and Fiona, with Sam and Casey bringing up the rear.

"What are you doing with the asset, there?" Michael asked her.

"What makes you think he's an asset?" Sarah asked.

"He's clearly not an agent," Michael said. "I thought he was going to shoot himself with our guns."

"He's my boyfriend," Sarah answered.

"Um, yeah," Michael said. "You take your boyfriend around with you and your partner when you're running an operation."

"Actually, we're on vacation," Sarah said. At Michael's knowing smile, she sighed. "Listen. He's off limits. Period. Understand?"

Michael smiled. "Like he's not even here." He glanced back. "I'll explain that to Fi."

"Your girlfriend?" Sarah asked.

"She was," Michael explained. "She'd like to be again, but…" He stopped. He really didn't know why he was telling Sarah this.

"Yeah," Sarah agreed.

*************************************************

"So, Charles," Fiona was saying. "What brings you to Miami?"

"Sarah and I are on vacation," Chuck said. He tried to inch further away from Fiona while they walked, but Fiona had his arm in a surprisingly strong grip.

"She's your girlfriend?" Fiona asked.

Chuck got a slightly distant expression, "Yeah."

"She's a lucky woman," Fiona said, pulling Chuck a little closer. "So tell me, are things going well between you two?"

Chuck gave her a bewildered expression.

***********************************************

Casey and Sam walked along in silence for a few minutes before Casey finally spoke. "What happened to you, Sam?"

"What do you mean, Casey?" Sam asked.

"Look at you," Casey said. "You were one of the best. Saved my ass twice. Now you look like some kind of beach bum." He gave Sam a sidelong glance, then snapped his eyes back to the front. "I've heard the stories around the agency. You hustle widows for lunch money."

"It's a little more than lunch money, my friend," Sam said. "I do right by them and they do right by me, although I'm kind of between ladies at the moment."

Casey gave a harrumph.

"Listen, Casey," Sam said. "You know as well as I do. You play this game long enough, you get burned out. Some hide in a bottle, like Roan Montgomery. Some get to liking the killing too much." He gave Casey a meaningful glance that Casey pretended not to see. "Some, like me, decide it's time to get out before we're a corpse in some field in Afghanistan. Besides, the spy game isn't what it used to be. Back in my day, you knew who the good guys were and who the bad guys were. Not like today. No honor, no loyalty today, even from the agency. Michael never would have gotten burned in the old days."

"So you dropped out," Casey said.

"Well, I tried," Sam said. "But Michael has kind of brought me back in. Oh, it's not like the old days. I'm not hauling a snot-nosed newbie agent into Leningrad," he glanced over at Casey.

"Or leading a seal team to rescue a compromised agent from the Taliban," Casey said.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Or that. But Mike, Fiona and I are doing a little bit of good here. We're not changing the world, but, eh, I'm not bored."

Casey gave another harrumph.

"So who's the asset?" Sam asked.

"Off limits," Casey responded.

"Roger that," Sam said. "Listen, you think you can stop and pick up some beer on the way over the Mikey's place?"

*********************************************

Twenty minutes later, they were in climbing the stair to Michael's loft. It was actually a large storage room above a club run by a former KGN agent. It had a bed, a refrigerator, a stove, a few chairs, and a work table. Behind the building was an industrial canal. They had to push through the line of people waiting to get into the club. Michael pushed open the steel door and motioned the others inside. The floors were thick enough that all they could hear of the music from the club downstairs was the bass, which caused the floor to vibrate slightly.

"You live here?" Chuck asked.

Michael shrugged. "It suits my unique situation."

"How do you sleep?" Chuck asked.

"Live through a couple bombings and sleeping through a hip hop beat is pretty easy," Michael responded.

Fiona walked past Chuck and flounced down on the bed. She gave Chuck a predatory smile and Chuck took a seat as far from her as possible. Sarah came over and sat by him and Chuck let out a breath he didn't know he's been holding.

"I initiated contact with Carina on the way over," Sarah said to Michael. "She should contact me soon, if she's not in a deep-cover situation."

"What if she doesn't respond?" Michael asked.

Sarah frowned. "We'll go ahead with the op. You need to be aware, however. We're on a deadline. We're leaving Miami on Monday. That's non-negotiable."

Michael's front door opened and Casey and Sam came in with a six-pack of beer, a six-pack of Cokes, a six-pack of diet Cokes, and two pizza boxes. Chuck brightened. "Did you get vegetarian, no olives?" Chuck asked. Sarah smiled at him.

*****************************************

It was past twelve when Chuck and Sarah made it back to the condo. Chuck opened the door and peeked his head in. No sign of Ellie or Awesome. He opened the door wider and stepped in, Sarah yawning behind him. They heard the faint sound of snoring from Ellie and Awesome's bedroom, so Chuck and Sarah tip-toed through the living room to their bedroom.

Chuck opened the door and stopped. There was a black-clad figure in a ski mask sitting on the bed. "Sarah," he said, his voice rising. Sarah pushed past him and looked at the figure on the bed, which stood and assumed a fighting stance.

"Hello, Carina," Sarah said softly. "We don't want to wake Chuck's sister and her boyfriend in the next room."

The figure pulled off her mask and shook out her coppery hair. "You're no fun," she pouted. "I haven't had a good tumble since I left LA." She looked over at Chuck. "How about you, Chuck? You up for a tumble?"

Chuck took a step back and moved a little more behind Sarah. "That would still be a 'no,' Carina," he said. "How did you get here so fast?"

"I was in town. Turns out there's some ex-spy looking to get into drug running so they called me. I was between gigs and feeling kind of bored, so I volunteered."

"Still going by Carina?" Sarah asked.

"Works for now," Carina said. "I see you're still your still posing as Sarah Boring."

"Sarah Walker," Sarah corrected, "And we still have our little adventures."

"I thought you said you didn't want to work with me again?" Carina asked.

"I need a favor," Sarah said. "It's in your area."

"What is it?" Carina asked. "Or more importantly, what's in it for me?"

"Come with me," Sarah said. "Casey's room is down the hall?"

Carina smiled a rather predatory smile. "Casey's here too? Quite the little reunion. Did he bring the clovers?"

Sarah couldn't help but chuckle. "You'll have to ask him that yourself." She turned to Chuck. "You stay here."

"But…"

"Chuck," Sarah said sternly. "You stay here."

She and Carina left the room and Chuck sullenly shut the door and flopped down on the bed.

Sarah and Carina walked down the hall to Casey's suite. Casey opened the door just as Sarah was raising her hand to knock. "That anxious to see me, Johnny?" Carina asked playfully. "Can't even wait for us to knock?"

"Hello, Carina," Casey said with a sneer. "It hasn't nearly been long enough."

"Let's take this little reunion out of the hallway, shall we?" Sarah suggested.

Carina brushed past Casey, making sure her hip brushed against his crotch. Casey stifled a short "uh" and stepped back. Carina just smiled. "Love what you've done with the place, Johnny," she said. "Going for Charlton Heston Chic?"

This earned Carina another grunt.

Carina slid onto the couch like a cat assuming a perch and stretched over to look into the bedroom. When she smiled, Casey grunted again. "You had to call her, Walker?" he asked.

"Be nice, Johnny," Carina said. "Sarah said you two wanted a favor."

Sarah took a seat across from Carina. Casey took up a position standing behind her so Sarah was between him and Carina. "The ex-spy that you came into town to see about?" Sarah said. "His name is Michael Westen." She took a deep breath. This was going to be hard to explain. "He isn't really looking to set up a smuggling operation. He is running something of a con on Enrique Obregon."

"Sounds dangerous," Carina said. "Obregon is a bit player, but he's hungry and he's vicious. He's looking to move up the food chain and he's not afraid to stomp a few heads to get there. So how do you know all this?"

The door to Casey's room opened and all three reached for their various ready weapons, when Chuck slipped in the door.

"Chuck," Sarah hissed. "I told you to stay in the room."

"I know," Chuck said. "But I heard Devon or Ellie moving around and I didn't know how to explain me being back without you. Ellie would kill me if I left you alone somewhere in a strange town."

"All right," Sarah said.

"You can sit over here by me, Chuck," Carina offered. Chuck's eyes went wide and he opted for a barstool over by the kitchen.

"I'll just stay out of the way over here while you talk," he said.

"Chuck," Carina pouted. "You'll make me think you don't like me."

Sarah gave Carina a warning look and Carina laughed.

"We met Michael Westen tonight," Sarah said. "Obregon has eight to ten young women he is using as mules. He has them stashed somewhere. Westen is trying to get them out and shut down Obregon so he can't retaliate against the girls or their families when he sets them free."

"Noble," Carina said. "But small potatoes. Obregon moves maybe fifty kilos of heroin a year. Not worth my time."

"These are young girls he's using," Casey said between clenched teeth.

"Not my problem," Carina said. "They no doubt got into trouble all on their own. Call the local DEA office. They'll pick up Obregon and sweat the girl's location out of him."

Chuck scrambled to his feet. "Michael Westen said that if we do that, Obregon will have the girls killed to cover his tracks."

"It's possible," Carina said. "Like I said, they got themselves into this mess."

Chuck's eyes narrowed and a rare look of anger crossed his face. "How do you know that?" he said, his voice rising. "How do you know they weren't simply in the wrong place at the wrong time? Sometimes people get in messes completely innocently, and there's no way out. They're stuck in a life they didn't choose."

Sarah flinched at Chuck's words. She turned to face him, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes, blazing with anger, were focused on Carina. "Not worth your time? How many lives is your time worth, Carina?"

Sarah turned just in time to see Carina flinch. Carina, the hardened, 'me first' DEA agent actually flinched at Chuck's onslaught. What was it about Chuck, Sarah thought, that he's able to get to the most hardened, cynical agents to turn almost human? He did it to her. He did it to Casey. And in the remarkably short time she had known him, he was getting to Carina. Again.

Carina suppressed a shudder and turned to Sarah, pretending to ignore Chuck's outburst. "Tell you what," she said. "I could use a little excitement right now. And I'm always game to work with Johnny again. Let's just say you'll owe me one. Count me in."

They spent the next hour bringing Carina up to speed and getting her promise not to bring in her superiors in order to protect Michael, Sam and Fiona, as well as Sarah and Casey's careers.

********************************************

The next morning, the alarm in Chuck and Sarah's room went off at 6:00 a.m. Chuck moaned and started to reach over to shut it off. Sarah nudged him and said sleepily, "You take your shower first."

"Do we have to get up so early?" Chuck moaned.

Sarah rolled over and looked at him, her eyes, still half-closed. "If we're not gone by the time they wake up, we're going to have to spend the day with them, and we don't have the time.

Chuck signed heavily and groaned as he got out of bed. He hadn't realized that being a spy meant getting so little sleep. He went into the bathroom and showered, shaved and brushed his teeth, then got dressed. He went back in the bedroom to find Sarah asleep. With a playful grin, he leaned over her and shook his still wet hair, spraying her with a fine mist of cold water.

She sat up quickly and Chuck suddenly felt something very cold and very sharp pressed against his neck. "Oookay," Chuck said slowly. "Not a good idea way to wake a sleeping Sarah."

Sarah sheepishly slipped her knife back under the pillow. "No, Chuck, it's not. At least, not if you want to keep all your body parts." She got up and went into the bathroom while Chuck composed a note to Ellie and Devon telling them that he and Sarah had been invited by a couple they met last night on a shelling expedition and they would be gone all day. Chuck hated to lie to his sister, and was a little upset that it was starting to come so easily to him, but he couldn't exactly leave her a note saying, "Bye sis. Off to rescue some drug mules and take down a drug-runner."

Sarah got ready in a remarkably short time and Chuck marveled at how beautiful she could be so early in the morning.

They went down to Casey's suite and were surprised when Carina answered the door.

"Good morning, Carina," Sarah said. "Where's Casey?" She leaned over to look into his bedroom, half expecting to see him handcuffed to the headboard."

"In his bedroom," Carina said. "Chuckie here is a bad influence on him. You know he made me spend the night in my own bedroom?" She indicated the bedroom in the suite across from Casey's.

Casey came out of his bedroom dressed in black shirt, black jeans, and black boots. "Way to blend in, buddy," Chuck said. "What look where you going for, death?"

"That's right, Bartowski," Casey snarled. "And one more word out of you and I'll show you just how effective I can be with regard to that topic."

"You wound me, Casey."

Surprisingly, it was Carina who put a stop to the banter. "Come on, boys," she said. "If you're going to fight, at least fight over me."

Casey grunted and stuffed a gloch in the back of his jeans and said, "Let's go."

When they got to Casey's suburban (black, of course), Carina slipped in the back seat and slid over to the other side. "Want to sit back here with me, Chuck?"

"I, ah, think I'll ride shotgun," Chuck stammered. Sarah gave Carina a dirty look.

"What the matter, Sarah?" Carina whispered just loud enough for Chuck to hear. "Poaching on your territory?"

"Put a sock in it, Carina," Sarah said. She buckled her seatbelt and then turned to fix Carina with a hard stare. "Remember what we agreed last night. Our op, our rules. We can't afford to have you improvising on this one."

"It worked out pretty well last time," Carina said, looking at her nails.

"Casey and I got captured and we all almost got killed," Sarah said.

"But we got the diamond and Peyman went to jail," Carina said.

Throughout the conversation, Chuck and Casey studiously studied the road.

***************************************

About fifteen minutes later, they pulled up in front of Michael Westen's loft.

"Ugh," Chuck said. "It smells like stale beer. I don't know how he stands this place."

"Smells like heaven to me," came a voice from behind them. Sam Axe was grinning at them. Fiona was a step behind him and didn't look quite as pleased with the smell.

"Good morning, good morning," Sam said. Then he noticed the boxes Chuck was holding. "Charlie, you brought donuts? I could learn to like this lad." He was about to reach for one of the boxes where he noticed Carina standing behind Sarah.

"Well, good morning to you," Sam said. "Is this the legendary Carina?" He stepped forward and took Carina's hand. "Enchante, mademoiselle."

Carina smiled. "Well, at least someone here knows how to treat a lady."

"When one shows up, I'll remember that," Casey muttered, earning him a kick in the shin and a dirty look from Fiona.

Casey narrowed his eyes at her and Fiona took on the predatory smile that Sam Axe knew only too well. "Well, well, Charlie's donuts are getting cold and Michael is waiting. Shall we go on up?"

Sam led the way up the stairs. Ever since he had almost set off Michael's spring gun a while back, he had learned to knock when Michael's door was closed. Michael opened the door and ushered them all in. He started when Carina passed him. "Alexis?" he asked, stunned.

"Hello, Michael," she said.

"Does everyone in Spy World know everyone else?" Chuck muttered.


	5. Making Plans

Checked the mail today. No royalty checks for _Chuck_ or _Burn Notice_ so I guess I still don't own them.

Thanks again for all the continuing reviews.

A special thanks to **Poa** who helped me go back and edit some typos and bad grammar in Chapters one and two.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 5

Making Plans

"Alexis?" Michael Westen asked, stunned, as Carina entered his loft.

"Hello, Michael," Carina replied.

Chuck was muttering something, but Casey ignored him. "Alexis?"

Carina smiled at Michael. "Michael helped me take down some poppy dealers in Ankara a few years back," Carina explained. "I was going by Alexis Andropov back then."

Sarah turned on Carina. "So you knew who Michael Westen was when we spoke last night?"

"Of course," Carina answered. "Why do you think they gave me the assignment to check into the ex-spy? I had previous history with Michael."

"Previous history?" Fiona muttered. "Is that what they're calling it now?"

"Down, Fi," Sam whispered to her. Louder, he said, "Hey, Charlie, how 'bout breaking out those donuts?" Sam took the boxes from Chuck and put them on the counter by the fridge. "Ooh! Boston crème!"

Casey grunted, but he took a raspberry filled. Chuck picked out a chocolate croissant with a napkin and brought it over to Sarah, who rewarded him with a smile. Chuck got a goofy grin and walked back over to get a Boston crème for himself.

Sarah looked back over at Carina. "How come you didn't tell us you knew Michael?"

"You didn't ask," Carina said. "Jealous?"

Sarah huffed and turned to her croissant and smiled at Chuck, just to make her message clear.

Casey leaned over to Sam and muttered, "I've heard of love triangles, but this is getting ridiculous."

Sam whispered back, "So _is_ Carina single?"

Casey got a mysterious grin on his face. "Go for it, Sam."

Fiona wandered ever so casually over to stand by Michael.

Finally, Chuck said rather loudly, "So, Michael, have you thought of a plan?"

Michael immediately shifted into 'agent mode.' "First thing we need is intel. I want to try to get a bug in Obregon's car.

"Fresh out of bugs," Casey said. "We can't exactly requisition some for this op from the CIA."

"What about the ones in Ellie and Devon's room?" Chuck asked.

"Not enough range," Casey said. "We need some long-range hardware for a car."

"Actually," Sam said, "Mikey's got that covered. We take a cell phone…"

"Oh yeah! That's brilliant," Chuck gushed. "You can take the microphone from a cheap cell phone and hook it to the electronics from a better cell so you get the range and battery life, but the cheap speaker picks up everything."

"That's pretty good, Carmichael," Michael said. "You've done some fieldwork?"

"Not exactly," Chuck started to say.

"Agent Carmichael is one of our technical experts," Sarah cut in, and shot Chuck a warning look.

"We'll have to go get some cell phones," Chuck said. He was already planning out the modifications in his head.

"Here you go," Sam said, pulling out a box filled with various cell phone and cell phone parts. He put it on the table next to some tools and a soldering iron.

Chuck grinned and got to work. "You sure you know what you're doing, Carmichael?" Michael asked.

"Just watch me," Chuck said with a grin.

Michael frowned and Fiona gave him a nudge with her hip. "Suddenly not the smartest boy in the class, Michael?" she whispered. As a spy, Michael Westen was something of a nerd himself. He was an expert at cobbling together what they needed from whatever was readily available. His ego was a little bruised (although he would never admit it) that someone else was encroaching on his territory.

"Focus, Michael," Fiona whispered.

"Okay," Michael said. "The original plan was for me to pose as a drug runner so I could get access to Obregon's organization and find out where he was hiding the girls. Then we were going to get the word to one of the big dealers in the area that Obregon was trying to move up and provide him intel on Obregon's organization. We free the girls and the other dealer takes care of Obregon and his organization for us."

"Not a bad plan," Casey said appreciatively.

"Mikey's a whiz at operational planning," Sam said. "Great tactical awareness."

"Of course, that plan's out the window. After the DEA raid Tuesday night, Obregon is not going to trust me, at least not without a little work on our part. So I think we offer him a carrot and a stick. First, the carrot. We are going to convince him that Fi here is a 'mother' who recruits mules and has lost her 'customer.' Sarah and Carina will be her mules. Sam, can you get us some passports for them? Show them to be about 20 or 21 and from somewhere in the Midwest. I wish we had a small GPS tracker we could place on them so we could track their position."

Chuck looked up from where he was soldering one of the cell phones. "We can pull the GPS transceiver out of my watch and plant it one of their clothes. It should be small enough that it can be hidden without being detectible and… Wait a minute; did you say Sarah was going to be a _mule_? You're planning on turning her over to a bunch of drug dealers? Sarah, this is crazy. I'm not…"

While Chuck was talking, Sarah got up and walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm. "Let's hear him out, Chuck."

Chuck didn't look happy, but he motioned for Michael to continue. Sarah noticed, however, that he did not seem to be nearly so interested in his cell phone project and was listening much more closely to the plan.

"Fi has got to convince Obregon to have her take her mules to the safe house where he's hiding the other girls. Carina, do you know of any mid-level drug dealer Obregon uses who we can turn to get Fi and introduction?"

Now that they were in operational planning, Carina was all business. "I have a couple ideas. Let me think on it. I can get us someone."

"Good, Michael said. "Now for the stick: I bust his chops for _his_ getting _me_ caught up in a DEA raid. We have to convince him that the DEA has made him a target and is moving in on his operation. That's where you, Casey, and you, Sam, come in. You're our DEA agents. You're going to be tailing Obregon, but not too close. We want him to feel enough pressure, but not so much that he closes the operation. We want him off balance. Worried. If we can either convince him to cut his losses and dump the girls, or find out where the girls are and get them out, that's half the battle."

"So Fi's the primary to find out where the girls are," Sam interjected, "and Casey and I are the backup. We convince him that continuing to use the mules is going to get him in trouble, so he is better off going through you to move his drugs."

"Right, Sam," Michael said. "As far as taking Obregon down, I see no need to change the original plan. If we can get Carmichael's bug there on him, we should be able to gather enough intel about his organization. Then we drop the info that he's looking to expand through a new import source – me – and enough intel to take out his organization and pass it on to one of the big dealers in town. They take out the competition and our problem is solved."

"No," Carina said.

"No, what?" Michael asked.

"I'm not going to sanction an op where we simply have Obregon killed by one of the other scum."

"It's not like it's going to be any great loss," Fiona opined.

"All you're going to do is transfer Obregon's distribution network to another dealer," Carina said. "You give me the intel we gather on Obregon and I take him down through the local DEA office."

"He's better off dead," Casey grumbled. Chuck gave him a shocked look. Sarah gave him a smile. She didn't want Chuck to get comfortable with the idea of people getting killed, no matter how much they deserved it.

"You want my help?" Carina asked, "Then I need to get something out of this. Obregon's not a big fish, but if I can take him down in only a few days it will look good enough."

"Carina," Sarah said. "Always looking out for number one."

"That's right, Sarah. We all are, whether we admit it or not. I'm just more honest about it. Besides, how is it any skin off your nose?"

"Can you guarantee that you'll take Obregon and his organization out?" Sarah asked. "Otherwise, he's going to come gunning for us. After all, nothing from Chuck's bug will be admissible in court. It's an illegal wiretap."

"No it won't," Carina said. "One of the local judges… well let's say he owes me a favor. We get the intel, I can get him to back-date a wire-tap that will make it all legal. Or at least, legal enough to hold up in court."

"I still don't like the idea of Sarah posing as one of those mules," Chuck said. "Can't we just go with Casey and Sam putting on the pressure?"

"No," Michael said. "Getting someone into the girls is our best option. If Sam and Casey push too hard, he could just have all the girls killed."

"Including Sarah and Carina if it goes badly," Chuck said.

"Michael," Sarah said. "Give us a minute."

Sarah took Chuck by the hand and led him outside. "Chuck," Sarah said, putting a hand on his arm. "I appreciate your wanting to keep me safe."

"It's too dangerous…" Chuck started to say.

Sarah stopped him with a slight squeeze of his arm. "But it's my job to take risks. This isn't any more risky that dozens of operations I've done before."

"But this _isn't_ your job, Sarah," Chuck implored. "You didn't even want to do this. Casey and I talked you into this."

"It's the right thing to do, Chuck," Sarah said. "You and Casey were right. Those girls need our help. Sometimes, we agents get so caught up in saving the whole world that we forget to save little parts of it. You always care about those little parts. And you're teaching me to care, too."

"Well, then I wish I wasn't doing such a good job if it means putting yourself at risk like this."

Sarah smiled. "Come on, Chuck. I'll be with Carina. Do you really think that there is any situation that the two of us can't get out of?"

"Like Pakistan?" Chuck asked.

"Yeah. Like Pakistan," Sarah laughed. "So we good?"

"Can I still worry about you?" Chuck asked.

"A little," Sarah replied.

Chuck and Sarah went back in and Chuck immediately went over to the worktable and went back to soldering the speaker into the phone.

"We're good," Sarah said.

"I need to go check on some contacts for Fiona's introduction and get a backup strike team on standby," Carina said.

"I'll go with you," Sarah said.

"Don't trust me?" Carina asked.

"As far as I can throw you," Sarah responded sweetly. "Casey, keep an eye on Carmichael."

Casey gave grunt number three (why do I always get the worst jobs).

"And I need to go see about those passports," Sam said.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Casey said.

"Good man," Sam said, clapping Casey on the back. "Ignorance is bliss."

Casey just growled again.

************************************

Casey was sitting in a chair, watching out the window while Chuck worked on the cell phones. Michael was eating a blueberry yogurt (about the only thing other than Sam's beer that he ever had in his refrigerator).

Fiona wandered over to Michael and spoke in a low voice. "So, that Carmichael is kinda cute, in a geeky sort of way. Do you think I'm too old for him?'

"Don't go there Fi," Michael warned.

"Jealous, Michael?"

"Sarah will be."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Fi. You've seen the way she looks at him. You mess with him and she'll kick your ass."

"Blonde? I'd like to see her try."

"She'd do it, Fi. My money's on you in a straight up fight, but you make a play for Carmichael there and she'll pull out all the stops."

"Hmmph," Fiona said. "I thought you said he was her asset and she and Casey were protecting him?"

"That's true," Michael said. "But it's clearly become more than that."

"So Michael, when you and she were together in Sarajevo, did you?"

"No, Fi."

"Why not? She's very pretty and you can be such the charmer."

"For one thing, Fi, I had just left you." Fiona swallowed a lump in her throat.

"Michael!" Chuck called.

"Damn," Fiona whispered.

Michael walked over to the workbench. "Is this what you had in mind?"

As much as Michael hated to admit it, Chuck had done a better job of putting together the cell phones together than he could have done. It seemed larger than the last one Michael had prepared. Chuck handed it over and Michael turned it over in his hands.

"What's this on the back?" Michael asked.

"Well," Chuck said. "The one problem with using the cells as a bugging device is battery life. Cell phone users want a small, light phone so battery life is always a trade-off. Gamers, on the other hand, don't worry so much about weight. A little heft makes your portable platform a more stable platform. And since a PSP and a cell phone have the same voltage requirements, I took the add-on battery pack from my PSP and wired it to the cell. Instead of a day, you should get three or four days out of it now. I figured we weren't worried about weight, so the extra battery was a no-brainer."

"That's a good idea, Carmichael," Michael grudgingly admitted.

"One more thing," Chuck said. "All cell phones these days have a built-in GPS transceiver. You generally have to pay to turn it on. I managed to reset this one so that it's on and broadcasting. That way, not only can we listen in, but we can track the cell's location, just like the NSA can do." He spared Casey a glance, but Casey was busy watching the windows.

"You're pretty handy to have around, Carmichael," Michael admitted. "How about the mini GPS transceiver in your watch?"

"That's my next project," Chuck said. He plugged the cell phone into a makeshift charger he had cobbled together and then took off his watch and started examining it.

*********************************

Sam returned a few hours later with two passports: one for a Stacey Brannigan, age 21, of Ames, Iowa; and another for a Brittany Collier, also age 21, of Arlington Heights, Illinois. "All I need is the photos," he said. "They should be good enough to fool Obregon, but they couldn't be used for travel. That would take a lot more time and money than we've got."

"These'll work, Sam," Michael said.

"Hey, what's that contraption Carmichael's got there," Sam said looking over at the table. Michael walked over and picked it up.

"He's improved on our prototype, Sam," Michael said. "Three to four times the battery life and a built-in GPS locator."

"Slick," Sam said. He turned to Chuck. "Think you could build another couple of these while you're hanging around?"

Chuck shrugged. "I suppose I could, but I'd need some more of the battery packs."

"And here," Michael said, "is our mini GPS transceiver."

"Pretty slick," Sam said. "You think we can sew that maybe in the hem of one of their pants or something?"

"I think so. I'm counting on Fi being with the girls so we won't need it, but I'll feel better with a backup." He glanced over at the large man by the window. "I don't think I'd want to face Casey if we lost his partner."

"No," Sam said. "I've seen Casey when he gets wound up. It's not pretty."

Sarah and Carina returned a little while later, carrying a notebook and a large canvas bag. "Here," Carina said. "Here's all the information you'll need to get Fiona set up. Ratbag named Vicente Martinez. We checked it out. He's at his corner on Miami at Tenth."

"Good work, Carina."

"It gets better," Carina said. "We've got a lead on Obregon. Word is he hangs at a club down in Little Havana called Calle Sinco. You may be able to catch him and his car there tonight and plant the bug."

Michael grabbed his keys. "Fiona, you're with me."

"Lovely," Fiona said. "As if I don't get enough contact with scumbags hanging around Sam."

Michael and Fiona were out the door and Sarah and Carina went upstairs with their bag. They came down a little over forty-five minutes later and Chuck gasped in amazement. Sarah and Carina had transformed themselves from beautiful, confident late-twenties to innocent twenty-one year olds. Sarah was wearing fake braces and her hair was a mousy brown instead of her usual golden blonde. She actually reminded Chuck somewhat of the high-school picture he had seen of her at her reunion.

In a way, Carina's transformation was even more amazing, because it was harder for Chuck to think of her as a sweet, innocent girl. Carina wore horn-rimmed glasses and her hair, a much more subdued auburn, was pulled back in a severe ponytail.

"Okay, ladies," Sam said, pulling out a passport camera. "Let's take some pictures."

"Wow," Chuck said to Sarah as he walked with her over to where Sam had hung a sheet as a backdrop for the pictures. "I hardly recognize you."

Sarah gave a nervous sigh. "This brings back some rather unpleasant memories of high school," Sarah admitted.

Sam took the pictures, then sent affixed them to the passports and pulled out a seal stamp with which he pressed the photos into the passports.

"Stacey Brannigan," he said, handing a passport to Sarah. "And Brittany Collier," handing the other to Carina. "Look these over and make sure they're okay, and memorize the information in them."

Sarah opened the passport and looked at the photograph, and grimaced.

"Damn!"

She looked up and saw Chuck looking at his watch. "We're supposed to meet Ellie and Awesome for dinner tonight at seven." He looked up at Sarah, clearly contemplating Ellie's reaction to Sarah's new look.

"We'll make it," Sarah said. "It'll take me a little bit to change and get these damn things off my teeth."

*************************

Almost an hour later, they were on their way to the restaurant. Casey was driving them in his Suburban. Chuck and Sarah were in the back seat. Carina had stayed behind at Michael's place with Sam. They were nearing the restaurant when Sarah suddenly yelled, "Dammit. Casey, pull over."

"What?" Casey yelled. "What is it?"

"We forgot the shells!" she cried.

"What?" Chuck asked.

"Your note to Ellie. It said we were going shelling today. They're going to want to see the shells we collected."

"I swear," Casey grumbled. "Running guns to mujahidin was easier than running an op with Bartowski." He screeched to a halt in front of a little tourist dive and Sarah and Chuck jumped out to go buy a bag of seashells. While Chuck was buying the shells, Sarah ran around the shop the beach and got a little cup of beach sand. Chuck climbed into the car and transferred the shells into a shelling bag. Sarah climbed in and started sprinkling a little bit of sand on various parts of Chuck, like in his shoes and the cuffs of his pants.

"What are you doing," Chuck asked as Sarah sprinkled just a touch of sand in her hair.

"It's the tiny details that sell the story, Chuck," she explained. "If we were out all day hunting for shells, and didn't go back to the condo to change, we would have just a little bit of sand in out of the way places, like your pant-cuffs."

Chuck nodded. Just what he wanted to know. Better ways to lie to his sister.

Casey pulled up in front of the restaurant at three minutes to seven. Chuck and Sarah jumped out and Casey pulled away to park around the block. Moments later, a taxi pulled up in front of the restaurant and Devon and Ellie climbed out. Ellie was looking over her shoulder at the Suburban just rounding the corner.

"You know," she said to Devon after he paid the cabbie. "The driver of that car looked just like John Casey."

"Should I be jealous, babe?" Devon asked. "That's the second time you thought you saw John Casey here in Miami. Have you got John on the brain, hon?"

"Huh," Ellie shrugged. Then she turned to Devon. "You know I only have eyes for you, sweetie," she said. "Oh, look, there's Chuck and Sarah."

Ellie ran over and gave Sarah a hug. Chuck wryly noted that lately, Ellie always hugged Sarah before she hugged him, as if Ellie was doing her best to pull Sarah into the family. "So how was the shelling trip?" Ellie asked.

Chuck held up their bag of just-purchased shells. "I don't know what we're going to do with them all," Chuck said. "Maybe party favors for our annual Talk Like a Pirate Day party?"

Ellie whapped Chuck on the arm. "Shelling, hum? Sarah is definitely pulling you out of your comfort zone. Imagine, my little brother spending all day looking for seashells."

"Well, that's not _all_ we did," Sarah smiled.

"Way to go, Chuck!" Devon said, and held up a hand for a high-five.

Chuck went 'up high' with Devon, then they started toward the door of the restaurant.

"Wait a second," Chuck said. He stopped and took off a shoe, then poured a little bit of sand out of it. Ellie laughed and took Sarah's arm as they continued into the restaurant.

*********************************

After setting things up with Vicente Martinez (he was happy to help after Fiona put a knife to his crotch and threatened to usher him into the ranks of the castrati) and successfully planting the cell phone 'bug' in Enrique Obregon's car, Michael and Fiona returned to his place. After pushing through the line of people waiting to get in, they climbed the steps. Michael halted Fiona when he noted that the door was unlocked.

Michael pulled his gun, slowly pushed the door open, and cautiously crept inside.

He heard some muffle noises and crept farther into the room, and there he saw Sam Axe, in his underwear, a gag in his mouth, handcuffed to the wall above Michael's bed.

Fiona popped her head around Michael's shoulder and smiled at Sam. "Well, Michael," she said. "Looks like we missed the party."

"Mmph, mmph, mmph," Sam replied.

********************************

_Sorry. Sorry. I couldn't resist. How can I have Carina in a story and not have _ somebody_ handcuffed to the bed in their underwear?_


	6. Little Girls Lost

Do I _really_ have to keep saying it? Still don't own either one.

By the way, I have been to Miami a grand total of once in my life, for about 24 hours, so I apologize for any errors of geography with regard to the Miami area.

Thanks again to **Poa** for proofreading Chapter 5.

Now on to…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 6

Little Girls Lost

Chuck and Sarah had breakfast with Ellie and Awesome in the suite – some of Ellie's ham, cheese and mushroom omelets. "So what's the plan today?" Chuck asked.

"Well," Ellie said, "I thought that you boys could take your two favorite girls shopping."

Chuck looked over at Devon with a puzzled expression. "But won't we have to go to LA for that?"

"Going shopping?" Devon asked.

"Getting our two favorite girls," Chuck teased.

Sarah gave him a playful slap on the arm and Ellie gave him an exasperated look.

"Gonna be sleepin' on the couch, bro," Devon warned.

Sarah faked looking a little nervous. "Actually, Ellie, we can go shopping this morning, but I have a surprise for Chuck this evening, if you don't mind."

"Details, Sarah, details," Awesome asked.

"Well, you know we love spending time with you guys," she said. "But Chuck and I don't really get to spend all that much time alone…"

"Yeah?" Ellie asked, with rising excitement. She was very in favor of anything that sounded remotely like advancing Chuck and Sarah's relationship.

"I learned to sail when I was back in D.C. …" she turned and looked at Chuck. "I hope you don't mind but I rented us a little sailboat. I thought we could sail out this evening and spend the night on the water." She bit her bottom lip and looked as Chuck, just like a girlfriend would when springing a potentially unwanted surprise on her boyfriend.

Ellie squealed. "Oh, Sarah, that sounds so romantic!" Her expression suddenly turned serious as she looked at Chuck. "Make sure you take your Dramamine Chuck." Then she turned back to Sara and was giggly girl once again, "That is such a neat idea! You're going to have such a wonderful time."

Chuck looked a little confused, but he smiled at Sarah. "Sounds like fun, sweetie."

After finishing up the breakfast dishes, they repaired to their respective bedrooms to get ready for the shopping expedition.

Chuck turned to Sarah. "Did you really get a sailboat?"

Sarah gave him a look that said, 'use your head, Chuck.' "Of course not," she said. "But this operation with Michael Westen and Carina is going to take awhile and we'll be out at least one night. We needed a cover story so we could get away from Ellie and Devon and they wouldn't wonder where we were."

Chuck managed to look both relieved and a little disappointed. "Good," he said half-heartedly. "I get seasick."

After getting ready, they went down to South Beach where Ellie dragged Sarah through shop after shop, which Chuck and Devon trailed along behind, carrying the bags.

"Not a comic book or video game store anywhere in sight," Chuck whined to Awesome as they trudged through their two hundredth (or so it seemed to Chuck) clothing store. Inwardly, Chuck was having a hard time keeping up the charade of 'supportive boyfriend of shopper.' He couldn't stop thinking about the mission. About Sarah risking her life. Why did he ever agree to this Miami vacation? It had seemed like such a good idea at the time: a chance for him and Sarah to get away from all the spy stuff and just spend some time together like normal people. But Spy World had followed them, even all the way to the other side of the country.

Sarah, on the other hand, was more worried about the shopping trip than the mission. Every minute that she spent with Ellie doing "girl stuff" was harder for her than taking down a terrorist cell in Pakistan. She didn't have any experience doing the "girl stuff." She had never been in one place long enough growing up to have any really close friends; besides, her father discouraged her getting too close to anyone lest they be 'found out.' Keeping up her cover as a 'normal girl' was more exhausting than any other mission. Yet, it was also hard not to enjoy Ellie's company. Ellie was so energetic, so caring, and so obviously delighted at getting to spend time with Sarah that it was a little infectious. A part of her longed to make this kind of life permanent. To have, as she told Casey, 'a normal life, family, children.' Yet she knew that Chuck was right. She never had been normal and she never would be normal.

"Sarah," Ellie said, holding up a blouse. "This would look so cute on you." Sarah smiled and gushed, keeping up the deception that was becoming harder and harder to maintain.

They had lunch at a little outdoor café overlooking the beach, and afterwards, Sarah made a show of looking at her watch. "Chuck? We should probably get going. We have to pick up the boat by three and we have to get back to the condo and drop off these bags and pick up our overnight bags."

"We'll come with you," Ellie said.

"No. No. You keep shopping," Sarah said. "I don't want you to have to stop on our account."

"You know, I did see a lingerie shop down the street," Devon said with a smile.

Casey was waiting for them in the Suburban the next block over. "We need to drop off the bags at the condo, or Ellie will be suspicious," Sarah said.

"I'm on it," Casey said, pulling away from the curb.

They dropped the bags and quickly grabbed the overnight bags that Sarah had packed for them the night before, then headed over to meet with Michael, Fiona, Sam, and Carina. It was time to put Michael's plan into effect.

************************************************

Michael opened the door when Casey knocked. He was all business. "We have some solid intel from the bug. Enough, at least, to get started. Fortunately, Obregon conducts most of his business from his car."

"How's the GPS tracker working?" Chuck asked.

"Perfect," Michael said. "Good work on that, Charles."

"Call me Chuck," Chuck said with a smile.

Michael turned to Sarah. "Carina is already upstairs getting ready. Fiona is giving her a hand."

"On it," Sarah said, and brushed past him to head upstairs.

"Casey," Sam said, popping open a beer as he walked over from the refrigerator. "You ready?" Sam was dressed similar to Casey in typical 'G-man' attire of dark suit, dark tie, and well-shined shoes. "We should take your car. It looks more government issue than mine."

"Let's go," Casey said. He turned to Chuck before he walked out the door. "You, Carmichael. You stay here. You don't leave, you don't call anyone other than me, you don't answer the door. Got it?"

"Yes, Casey," Chuck said. "I think I'm familiar with the concept of 'stay in the car.'"

"Concept isn't the problem," Casey said. "It's execution where you fall down."

He and Sam turned and left. Once they were out the door and headed down the stairs, Sam turned to Casey. "You could have warned me about Carina, you know?"

Casey almost smiled. "They say experience is the best teacher, Sam. Besides, I still owed you for that 'girl' in Istanbul."

"I forgot about him," Sam said, slapping Casey on the back. "Wish I had pictures of that one."

Casey merely grunted.

Sarah went upstairs and started to change. She noticed that Carina and Fiona, who were a little frosty toward each other the day before, seemed to have bonded a bit over something. "You two are certainly getting along better."

"Oh, Carina did me a favor, yesterday," Fiona said. "She helped me get back at Sam for some of his… past indiscretions."

Sarah looked over at Carina and grinned. "You didn't," she said. "Prague?"

Carina nodded. "Prague."

While they continued to get ready, Michael was downstairs talking to Chuck. "I sewed the mini GPS transceiver in the hem of Sarah's shirt." He looked Chuck in the eye. "You know she's gonna be all right? Fi will take care of her."

"Yeah," Chuck said, looking up toward the loft. "Sarah's pretty good about taking care of herself, too." He looked back to Michael. "I just worry about her, you know?"

Michael clapped a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "I know exactly what you mean," Michael said. "Fiona's tougher than most guys I know, but I still worry about her, too." He spared a quick glance up at the loft himself, then turned back to Chuck. "Anyway, Chuck. You're going to be communications. Here's a cell with my, Fiona's and Sam's numbers programmed into it. You can call Casey on it, too. It's off-grid so your calls won't be traced. This one is connected to the cell in Obregon's car. I disconnected the microphone in it so Obregon won't hear anything on this end. This little mike on the side," he indicated a button mike attached to the phone, with a wire trailing down to the worktable," is connected to this recorder so we can get Carina her tapes. Make sure you change the tape when it's about to get full. Don't use the back side of the tape. Change it out when it gets close to the end."

"Change the tape. Don't use the back side. Got it," Chuck said.

"Call me or Sam…"

"Or Casey," Chuck added.

"Or Casey if you hear anything important," Michael said.

"We're ready, Michael," Fiona said, coming down the stairs. She was dressed in a severe business suit, but one which clung closely to her figure, and had her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Behind her, already in character, Sarah and Carina (now Stacey and Brittany) walked with hunched shoulders and darting, nervous expressions.

Chuck felt his chest constrict. He wanted to run over to Sarah and tell her not to go through with it. Or at least to tell her to be careful. Something warned him away, however. Somehow, he knew that she would go, whatever he said, and that whatever he said would just make her job, her mission harder.

Sarah tried not to look at Chuck, but she couldn't help stealing a glance at him. The pain in his eyes was almost unbearable. It was all she could do not to run over to him and throw her arms around her and have him hold her one last time, just in case it was the last time. She forced herself to look down, like a good prisoner would. It helped that, right then, she felt more like a prisoner that ever before in her life. As prisoner of what, however, she would be hard pressed to say.

"My brother Nate got us a panel truck," Michael told Fiona. "It's parked down the street. You can use that for… the girls."

"My meeting with Obregon is in thirty minutes," Fiona said. "Wish us luck, Michael."

"Good luck, Fi."

"Good luck, Sarah," Chuck whispered, his voice catching as he did.

Though she gave no indication, Sarah caught every word.

Once they were out the door, Chuck turned to Michael. "Promise me this is going to work."

Michael forced himself to sound much cheerier than he felt. "Relax, Chuck. We do this all the time. They're gonna be fine." But he couldn't help glancing back at the door.

Michael gathered up his gear and headed toward the door himself. "Lock the door behind me," Michael said to Chuck. "Don't open it for anyone."

"Got it," Chuck said.

Michael left and Chuck locked the door. The room suddenly seemed very, very empty. He walked over to the work table, pulled up a stool, and picked up the phone connected to the Obregon 'bug.'

**************************************

Enrique Obregon had plans. Big plans. The people running drugs in this town were idiots. Sure, all he had right now were a few girls acting as mules and a few disguised packages coming through customs, but he had ideas. Big ideas of how he was going to be on top. He saw the way that Carlos Menocal and Esteban Cespedes lived and he hungered for that lifestyle. More importantly, he hungered for that power.

If only the meeting with that Michael Westen hadn't gone sour. The man also had ideas. Ideas of how to bring in product in a way untraceable to Obregon. Lots of product. With product would come money. With money would come gunmen. And with gunmen would come power. Menocal and Cespedes may be on top for now, but Enrique knew that was only a temporary condition. Some day. Some day soon, he would be the King of Miami.

He looked at his watch. Vicente Martinez was a weasel, but he was good at moving product. And it was important to keep the underlings contented… at least as long as they were useful.

A panel van pulled into the parking lot where he waited in his car. The door opened and a striking, if severe-looking woman got out. She looked around carefully before tugging on her skirt and then walking over on her stiletto heels, steady despite the gravel parking lot. Obregon opened his door and got out, then leaned against the door of his car.

"Are you Enrique Obregon?" the woman asked.

"Who is asking?" he said.

"Candace Carson," the woman said. "Vicente Martinez sent me to meet with you. If you are Obregon, that is."

"What do you want?" Obregon asked. Martinez, of course, had told him, but it was best to let the other do most of the talking, at least at first.

"I am sure Vicente told you," Candace said. "My previous employer was… detained, and I am looking for a new business arrangement."

"What type of business arrangement, Candy?"

"Candace," the woman corrected him. "Let's say, I deal in livestock," she said. "Specifically, mules."

"So, I say again. What type of business arrangement are you looking for?"

"I recruit girls. Young, unattached women. The prettier ones I use for… entertainment. The ones who are not quite so pretty… Well, my previous employer convinced me that there was money to be made in using them to transport drugs. I make sure that they have passports, have no attachments, and are properly… conditioned. Vicente said that you might have use of such girls."

"I have my own recruiting methods," Obregon said. He was careful. So far he had said nothing that would prove he was a trafficker.

"Yes. So I've heard. The personal method. Yet that requires a significant investment in your time and, I have heard, sometimes you have run into… family troubles."

"Nothing I cannot handle."

"But you should not have to handle such things. That is where I can help."

"How do I know you're not a cop?" Obregon asked. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"I have a gift," Candace said. "A sign of my good faith." She walked over to the van and slid open the side door. Two young women, one brunette, the other auburn haired, huddled together. "Get out," Candace hissed.

The two girls got slowly out of the van and stood close together, facing Obregon. Obregon could see that they had the potential to be fairly pretty, but nothing that would command the high prices of the better escorts.

Obregon walked over and walked around the girls, looking them over. Despite the Florida heat, the two girls shivered. "A little skittish for this line of work," he said.

"They can be broken of that," Candace said. She held out two passports for Obregon. "So can we do business?"

"Perhaps," Obregon said. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. "Mano. Come to the parking lot. I have a pick up for you."

"If we are going to have an arrangement, I want certain assurances," Candace said. "I want to see where the girls are going to be kept."

"In due time," Enrique said. "I want to check you out, first."

Another van pulled up. Obviously, Obregon had backup standing by. "Take the girls to the safe house," Obregon told the beefy, bald driver that got out." The driver hustled the two girls into the van and slammed the door. The wheels of the van kicked up rocks as it pulled away.

"So you take my gift and spit in my face?" Candace asked, harshly.

Obregon covered the three steps between them rapidly and stuck his face close to hers. "If I spit in your face, bitch, you will know it. I said I was going to check you out and then I'd be in touch, and I will. For now, consider the girls insurance that you aren't trying to play me. Now get the hell out of here. I have other business."

It took every scrap of willpower Fiona had not to smash her knee into this troll's groin, but she steeled herself to play out her part. She turned abruptly, got in the van, and pulled out.

As soon as she was around the corner, she pulled out her cell phone. "Michael, we have a problem. He took Sarah and Carina."

*************************************

_Another short chapter, but this seemed a like a good place to stop to add a little suspense. Okay, that and my kid just got home so no more writing for now._


	7. Things Fall Apart

Still don't own 'em. Nuff said.

Thanks again to **Poa** for proofreading the previous Chapters. I have gone back and revised them to correct the typos, etc.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 7

Things Fall Apart

"Michael, we have a problem," Fiona said into her phone. "He took Sarah and Carina."

"Do you know where he's taking them?" Michael asked.

"No. He wouldn't say. What are we going to do, Michael? I left the meet, but I can go back and get him to tell me where he's taking them."

"I don't want you shooting anyone in the kneecaps, Fi. Stick with the plan. We've got the GPS tracker on Sarah and Chuck is monitoring Obregon and his movements. "

Fiona saw a black Suburban pass her going the other way. "Sam and Casey are headed toward the lot. Should I send them after Sarah and Carina."

Michael almost said yes, but his professionalism trumped his compassion. "No. We've got the tracker on them. Sarah and Carina can take care of themselves for now. We stick with the plan. Let me call Chuck and tell him to make sure to monitor Sarah's transceiver. I'll have Chuck call you with updates as to Sarah and Carina's location and you can follow them at a discrete distance. But you can't let them spot you, Fi. They could hurt the girls."

He winced. Girls. Sarah and Carina were trained agents. But considering how they looked the last time he saw them, it was hard for Michael to think of Sarah and Carina as anything but girls. That just made it harder not to immediately go after them.

"I know how to run a tail, Michael," Fiona shot back. He could tell from her voice that she was angry, but not at him. If Obregon tried to do anything to Sarah or Carina, he wouldn't want to be between Fi and Obregon.

Michael's voice was surprisingly tender. "I know you do, Fi. Be careful."

Michael cut the connection and immediately dialed Chuck. "Chuck. Obregon took Sarah and Carina, but he wouldn't let Fiona go along."

"What?" Chuck cried. "We have to go get them! I've got them on the GPS locator. They're headed north on 95."

"Chuck..." Michael said.

"If we call Casey, he and Sam should be able to catch them. I can…"

"Chuck!" Michael said, louder. "We stick with the plan. You've got Sarah's GPS locator. The idea was that they would lead us to the other girls. That's still the plan."

"But Fiona was supposed to be with them!" Chuck said, his voice rising.

"Chuck, if this is going to work, you have to calm down. Now, I want you to call Fiona and give her Sarah and Carina's location. She'll tail them so she can be close by."

"What if they split them up?" Chuck asked. "We only have a transceiver on Sarah."

"They won't," Michael said.

"But…"

"They won't," Michael said more forcefully. He only hoped he was convincing himself. "Now call Fi."

Chuck called Fiona and relayed Sarah's location.

"Please, Fiona," Chuck pleaded. "Don't let anything happen to her."

For the briefest instant, Fiona felt an irrational flash of jealousy. She shook it off. "Don't worry, Charles," she said. The stress was getting to her. Her brogue was edging into her voice. "I promise that Sarah and Carina will both be fine. I'll see to it myself."

###

In the parking lot where Fiona, posing as the mule-runner Candace, had just left him, Obregon leaned against his car smoking a cigar. Not bad, he thought. At the very least, he had replacements for those two cows who had managed to get themselves killed and, more importantly, lose his drugs. This Candace might prove useful, but he hadn't gotten where he was by being incautious. Vicente Martinez had vouched for her, but Martinez was weak. Best to be sure before bringing her in. He had the two girls. There was no hurry.

He heard a racing engine and looked up. A black Suburban pulled into the parking lot and skidded to a gravel-strewing halt. The front doors opened and John Casey and Sam Axe got out.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?" John Casey asked. "I thought Miami had a no trash ordinance."

Casey approached Obregon from the front of the car, while Sam circled around to approach from the rear. Casey's phone rang. He tossed the phone back in the Suburban without looking at it.

"Obviously," Sam said evenly, "trash pickup missed a stop."

"Who are you guys?" Obregon asked. "What are you doing here?"

"DEA," Casey said.

"I'm clean," Obregon said. "You got a warrant?"

"Oh, we don't need a warrant for this," Sam said. He darted forward and in one, swift move he had Obregon's arms pinned behind him. Casey slammed his fist into Obregon's stomach and the drug runner's breath came out in a painful 'Oof.' Casey gave him a second to catch his breath and then slammed his fist into Obregon's stomach again.

Sam released him and took a step back. Obregon was doubled over in pain, but he managed to cough out, "You ain't DEA. DEA don't coughcough don't harass people like this."

"You know, we missed you the other night," Casey said. "It isn't very nice to go running away like that when we come to make a social call."

"I been out of town until this morning," Obregon said. "Visiting my tia. She's sick."

Quick as lightning, Casey's arm whipped out and he caught Obregon with a hard left to the jaw. Obregon staggered. "Look, loser," Casey said. "Just because you've been small enough to fly under our radar before now doesn't mean we haven't been keeping an eye on you. Word on the street is that those two dead girls were mules. You won't know anything about that, would you?"

Obregon coughed again. "Don't know what you're talking about."

Sam slammed a foot into the back of Obregon's knee, and the drug-runner went down. He bent down close to Obregon's ear. "You've been dealing with the local cops up to now," he hissed. "But we hear word of any more young girls getting hurt because of you, and we won't be so nice next time."

Casey leaned over and reached into Obregon's jacket pocket and pulled out two cigars. "Well, lookie here. Cubans. Customs frowns on importing Cubans." Casey tossed a cigar to Sam. Sam backed away from Obregon until he was behind the car, then turned and made for the passenger door of the Suburban. "We'll be keeping an eye on you," Casey said, then slid behind the wheel of the Suburban.

Casey spun the wheel of the Suburban as he pulled out of the lot, showering Obregon with gravel.

"You know," Sam said, pulling out a knife to cut off the end of the cigar. "Mikey did say close, but not too close." He handed Casey the knife and Casey drove with his knee while he clipped his own cigar, then handed the knife back to Sam. "So you think we got too close?"

"How else were we going to get the cigars?" Casey said, leaning over to accept a light from Sam. "I think he got the message. Running mules is a dangerous line of work. Now we back off a bit so he doesn't feel like he's gotta hurry up and dump the other girls to cover his tracks. Nice touch with that last kick, by the way."

"Thanks. Since Mike got to town, I seem to be more on the receiving end lately. Nice to be dishing it out for a change."

"Yeah. Been awhile since I got to do that," Casey said. Then he frowned. The victory smoke didn't taste quite as good as it used to. Damn that Bartowski!

Putting it out of his mind, Casey pulled around the corner and pulled into an alley so he could watch the exits from the parking lot.

Back at Michael's place, Chuck was wide-eyed. He heard every moment of the confrontation between Casey, Sam, and Obregon and he felt sick. He looked down at the cell phone. Casey hadn't answered his call a few minutes ago, and now Chuck was afraid to call him again.

###

Obregon was still in pain when he pulled into the parking lot at his favorite club, Calle Sinco. After the confrontation in the parking lot with those two DEA agents, his ego needed some stroking. He was a big man at Calle Sinco and would be treated with respect. Maybe he would find some bitch inside he could take his frustrations out on. That always made him feel more like a man.

He got out of the car, and was immediately grabbed and slammed against the hood of the car, face first. He felt the hard steel of a gun muzzle pressed against the back of his neck. "I should kill you now," Michael said in the slow, Southern drawl he had affected to play the part of the drug runner. "You got me busted by the DEA."

"Then what…" Obregon began. Michael picked him up and slammed him back against the hood of the car. Obregon winced, but continued. "Then what are you doing out?"

Michael flipped Obregon over and stuck the gun under Obregon's nose. "Because I know how to keep my nose clean." Michael said. "Those feds weren't interested in me. They kept asking _me_ questions about _you_."

"What did you tell them?" Obregon asked.

Michael eased back a little, but kept the gun pointed at Obregon. "Why, I told them I was looking to be your new importer. What the hell do you think I told them? Nothing! Back were I come from, a snitch gets a Columbian necktie."

"We do the same here," Obregon said, making a show of straightening his jacket to indicate he was not afraid of a man pointing a gun at him. "But we call it a Cuban necktie."

The crazy gringo drug runner seemed to relax a little. Obregon had known he was somewhat volatile from their previous meetings, but that was not exactly uncommon in this business.

"So why are you so hot right now?" Michael asked.

"Two of the girls that I used as mules died. Evidently that caught the attention of the DEA. They do not like pretty young girls dying, it seems."

"Heroin balloons in their stomachs burst?" Michael asked.

Obregon shrugged. "Occupational hazard."

Michael clapped his hand on Obregon's shoulder. He maneuvered him so that he was by the open door of the car so the bug would pick him up better. "That's what I've been trying to tell you," Michael said. "Mules are unreliable. Besides, those mules are penny-ante stuff. How much can you bring in a year? Twenty, thirty kilos?"

"A little more than that," Obregon said.

"But I hear you've been building the distribution side," Michael said. "Looking to move up in the world."

Obregon puffed his chest out. "One day I will own this town."

"Now _that's_ what I'm talking about," Michael said. "See, the problem is, I've got this new import channel. I'm ready to move some serious product. But the big boys, Menocal, Cespedes, they've already got their own import networks. They don't need the competition. But I've got no _distribution._ What good is getting the product here if you can't get it out on the streets? It's like having a steer."

"A steer?" Obregon asked, confused.

"A bull with no balls, son. A bull with no balls. Looks good, but useless."

Obregon thought for a moment. "I have been giving your proposal some thought. Given recent events, I think we can perhaps do business. In fact, I was going to call you."

"Now, hold on a minute," Michael said. "I've put my chips on the table. Now, as my Daddy would say, it's time to see _your_ hole card. I need to know something about this organization of yours. Make sure you can handle the product I bring in."

"So you can take it away from me?" Obregon asked. "Do you think I am stupid?"

"Hells bells," Michael said. "If I thought you were stupid, we wouldn't be talking…" His voice suddenly got much colder and he put his gun to Obregon's forehead. "And I'd blow your head off right here." Then he laughed and clapped Obregon on the shoulder again. "Come on, I know the score. I ain't Cuban. You think anybody in this town is going to give me the time of day? They gonna do business with a white boy from Louisiana?"

Obregon thought on this for a moment and then said, "All right. I will tell you of my distribution organization if you will tell me how you are getting the drugs in. Let us go inside."

Michael lowered the gun and gave his shoulders an exaggerated shrug, as if working the kinks out. "Don't know that I'm comfortable walking in there. Home field advantage and all that. Tell you what. Get in the car and we'll do it right here."

Obregon looked over at the entrance to the club. He really could use a drink right now. But business was business and business came before pleasure. "All right," Obregon said. "Get in."

###

The van pulled into a rundown neighborhood. Many of the houses were boarded up and covered with gang graffiti. In the back of the van, the two girls whimpered. "Keep it quiet," the driver spat, adding a rather rude Spanish slang for a certain part of the female anatomy, "or it will not go so well for you."

The girls in the back of the van huddled together, and any observer could see that they were clearly frightened. At least, any casual observer. Closer inspection would show that the eyes that seemed to dart about nervously were carefully noting locations, escape routes, potential vulnerabilities.

###

Fiona, following the van in her panel truck, had to pull farther back. The neighborhood the van she was following was entering was mostly deserted and her thirty yard cushion had stretched to sixty and now she was following it only by virtue of Chuck's phoned-in updates of the van's position. Looking around at the neighborhood, Fiona reached under her seat and pulled out the semi-automatic she had hidden there.

Casey and Sam, sitting in the Suburban smoking their Cubans, were watching Michael and Obregon talking in Obregon's car. Casey pulled out his phone and dialed Chuck to check in.

###

Chuck has been staring at the screen of his laptop which had a split window with the GPS track of Obregon on one side and the GPS track of Sarah's transceiver on the other. His mouth was dry, his shoulders ached and he had to go to the bathroom, but he was afraid to take his eyes off of the little glowing dot that marked Sarah's location.

In the background, the conversation between Michael and Obregon droned on as Obregon detailed his organization in an attempt to finalize an agreement with Michael to be his new supplier. Chuck spared a glance at the tape recording the conversation to make sure it was not about to run out, then turned immediately back to the glowing dot marking Sarah's location.

His cell phone rang and the picture of Casey in his green Buy More shirt appeared on the phone. Chuck's hands shook a little as he hit the screen to accept the call.

"Chuck," Casey's gruff voice said. "Report. Everything secure there?"

"Casey," Chuck said, his voice shaking. "Obregon has Sarah and Carina."

"That was the plan, moron," Casey replied.

Chuck completely ignored the dig. "No," he said. "Obregon took Sarah and Carina but he wouldn't let Fiona go along."

"Why didn't you call me?" Casey asked between clenched teeth.

"I tried, all right?" Chuck said. "Right before you and Sam beat up Obregon."

Casey grunted. Not one of his normal grunts, but more as a way to buy time for what he was going to say next. He hadn't thought about the kid listening in when he and Sam worked over Obregon. A part of Casey, a small part but one he thought he had buried years ago, felt guilty for the beating he had given Obregon. He glanced over at Sam, and the feeling was gone. Dammit, he was an agent. Bartowski was not going to get to him the way he had Walker.

"Do you still have Walker's location? Is the GPS working?" Casey asked.

"Yes," Chuck said. "And Fiona's following them, but she can't get too close because they're going into some really, really bad neighborhoods. We're talking Grand Theft Auto bad kind of neighborhoods."

"Calm down, Carmichael," Casey said, barely remembering to use Chuck's alias. "Walker can take care of herself."

"What is it?" Sam whispered from the passenger's seat.

Casey held a thumb over the microphone on the cell phone. "Obregon's got Walker and Carina. Fiona's tailing them."

"We're not doing any good here," Sam said. "Michael's with Obregon. I think we should go give Fiona some backup."

Casey thought for a moment then nodded. No plan survived first contact with the enemy. When everything started to go to Hell, improvise. He told himself that Walker was just a CIA skirt, but he got a sick feeling in his stomach thinking about her – and Carina – unarmed and alone with Obregon's goons.

"Carmichael," Casey said. "Route me to Walker's location."

###

With a little prodding, Obregon had been incredibly detailed in his description of his organization to Michael. Obregon, Michael quickly discovered, had a huge ego. In a way, the beating he had taken at the hands of Casey and Sam had loosened his tongue. He _wanted_ to tell someone about the organization he had built; about how he was going to replace Menocal and Cespedes as the top drug lord in South Florida; about how he had ruthlessly wrecked the competition he had faced so far. By bragging to Michael about his organization, he was reasserting his manhood.

He even talked about the fact that he had contracted a hit on the former mule who was currently in jail to make sure she didn't talk.

As he listened, Michael grew nervous. Obregon was a much more ruthless character than he had guessed. Michael had known that it was a possibility that Obregon would kill his mules; that was why he had planned the operation the way he had. But until now, he didn't think it was a _probability_. Obregon was not only capable of ordering the deaths of the girls he had stashed away as mules, he was probably relishing the idea.

Michael had to backtrack. He couldn't let Obregon think that he could start supplying his drugs right away, or Obregon would have no reason to keep the girls alive.

"Give me three weeks to get it all set up and start making your deliveries," Michael said.

"_Three weeks_," Obregon exploded. "You told me a few days ago that you were ready to start immediately."

"What?" Michael said. "You think I just snap my fingers and the drugs appear in Miami warehouses? Now that we have a deal, I have to work up shipping receipts, bills of lading, phony cargo manifests to piggy-back on real cargo shipments. In this business, three weeks is immediately."

"Three weeks," Obregon said. "It may be good for there to be a shortage on the streets for awhile to drive the prices since if you can supply as much as you say, we can then flood the streets with cheaper product. But if you cannot deliver as you promise, you are a dead man." He turned and looked over at the club. "Now let us get a drink to seal our agreement."

"Sorry, partner," Michael said. "If I'm under a deadline, I need to get moving on this right away. I've got some calls to make."

"Very well," Obregon said. "You can buy me a drink later to toast our success."

Michael shook hands with Obregon and prayed that his palms weren't sweating. He walked as casually as he could back to his car while Obregon headed into the club. Obregon was crazy, and they needed to get Sarah and Carina, and the other girls, out now.

As soon as he pulled away, he called Fiona. "Fi. Do we have a location? We need to get the girls out _now_."

###

Twenty minutes later, Casey and Sam pulled up bedside Fiona's panel van. Sam and Casey got out of the Suburban and Fiona climbed out of the panel van.

"Chuck has confirmed that Sarah's in a house one block over," Fiona told them as Casey pulled tac vests out of the back of the Suburban and handed one to Sam and started strapping one on himself.

"What about me?" she asked.

Casey shrugged and pulled Walker's vest out of the back and handed it to Fiona. She pulled it on and began to fix the straps. "A little fancier then we're accustomed to, eh Sam?" Sam looked at her and his eyes were hard. He had spoken to Michael on the way here about Michael's conversation with Obregon.

"The signal hasn't moved for the past thirty minutes," Fiona said, "so if we're lucky this is the same place the other girls are being held. I've reconnoitered the neighborhood. The house is a one-story wood frame with a detached garage. One door in front, one in the rear. The van they took Sarah and Carina in wasn't out front, but it might be in the garage. I couldn't get close enough to the house to find out if the girls were inside or how many guards we're talking about.

Casey stuck one gun in his belt and held up the other to cock it. "If they other girls aren't here," Casey said, "then whoever is here will tell us where they are. I guarantee it." Casey's tone made even Fiona shiver.

"Sam and I'll take the front," Casey continued. "You watch the back."

"No watching," Fiona said. "I hit the back door. We need as much surprise as we can get so they don't have a chance to hurt the girls."

Casey looked as Sam. "Trust me, Casey," Sam said. "Fiona can handle herself."

Casey shrugged.

"Shouldn't we wait for Michael?" Fiona asked.

"We do this now," Casey said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Fiona looked at Sam. He gave a slight nod.

"Then let's do this," Fiona said.

Casey and Sam worked their way to the front of the target house, keeping to the shadows as they went. The house was quiet, but there were lights on in all the rooms. Once they were in position, they waited ten minutes as agreed to give Fiona time to get into position. Casey watched the seconds on his watch tick down. At the appointed time, he and Sam charged up the front porch. Sam stepped to the side as Casey used a battering ram to knock in the front door. Sam rushed inside, weapon as the ready.

"Clear," he called as he surveyed the room and saw no targets.

There was a crash from the back of the house and then they heard Fiona yell, "Clear."

Working room by room through the house, they systematically cleared each one. They at last came to the back bedroom. Sarah and Carina's clothes were in a pile on the bed. There was no sign of either woman.

Casey turned and put his fist through the wall.


	8. Role Reversal

Listen. Really. I'm willing to accept them, if they want to give them to me. They would make a nice birthday present. Or Christmas present. Or Groundhog's Day present. But until then, I still do not own _Chuck_ or _Burn Notice_.

Great episode of Burn Notice last night (Thursday), by the way, which is why it's taken me longer to do this update. Just three more days until Chuck is back. I just have to go get my 3-D glasses. If I can find any. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a procrastinator.

Thanks again to my faithful proofreader **Poa** for more corrections for Chapter 7.

We now bring you…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 8

Role Reversal

When Fiona called Michael to tell him the bad news - that they raided the safe house and found Sarah and Carina's clothes but nothing else - Michael immediately turned his car around and headed back to talk to Chuck. This was not the kind of news you deliver over the phone.

Michael pulled up outside the loft and got out. He pushed roughly past the people waiting in line for the club and slowly climbed the stairs. He was not looking forward to this. He banged on the door and Chuck opened it. Seeing the look on Michael's face, Chuck immediately asked, "What's wrong? Is Sarah okay?"

Michael led Chuck back in to the loft. "Chuck." He took a deep breath. "Sam, Fiona and Casey raided the house that Sarah's GPS locator led them to. They found Sarah and Carina's clothes, but no one was at the house."

Chuck staggered backward into the work table. "Chuck, listen. We don't know where they are, but we have no reason to think they're not all right. Obregon wouldn't have taken them just to hurt them. That would be bad business."

"Their clothes," Chuck whispered hoarsely.

"Chuck," Michael said. "Listen to me. One way to control a target is to take their clothes. People don't like running around in their underwear, so nine times out of ten they'll stay where you put them. This is probably just a way of controlling the girls so they don't try to get away."

"Sarah," Chuck whispered again.

Michael walked rapidly over to him and grabbed him by both arms. "Chuck! Sarah's going to need your help. This isn't helping her."

Chuck, who had been staring blankly at the floor, suddenly looked up at Michael. Michael involuntarily took a step back. There was a fire in the young man's eyes that surprised him.

Sarah would have recognized that look. The look was pure Charles Carmichael. "Do we have a plan?" Chuck asked.

Michael leaned on the workbench and put his head down. "I need to think. Obregon is a much harder character than I guessed." He slammed a hand against the table. "Dammit! I of all people shouldn't underestimate my opponent."

"Don't worry," Chuck said. "Obregon has underestimated Sarah and Carina, too. I trust Sarah. I trust her to get out of this in one piece." He looked over at the door, for what Michael couldn't guess. Then Chuck said, "But now... we need to talk."

###

Twenty minutes later, the door to the loft opened and Casey, Sam and Fiona walked in. Sam put a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Sorry, kid. We'll get her back."

Fiona turned to Michael. "So Michael. What's the plan?"

"I have an idea," Chuck said. "We give Obregon a hostage."

"What?" Sam asked.

Chuck took a deep breath. "We need to know where Obregon has taken Sarah and Carina. We know he's not at the safe house you raided. How many safe houses can he have? I'm betting that he's only got one other. This isn't the CIA we're dealing with. He doesn't have safe houses scattered all over the city."

"Makes sense," Sam said. "But where does that get us?"

"I was listening in when Obregon asked Michael about his drug smuggling operation. Michael told him that he had the chief customs inspector at the Seaboard Marine terminal in his pocket. Obregon thinks Michael is blackmailing him, among others, to look the other way on shipments.

"What if the customs inspector was getting cold feet? He decided that he'd rather come clean about his affair or whatever rather than go to jail for aiding and abetting drug smugglers. So Michael needs more leverage. He has nabbed the inspector's son and the inspector goes along or Michael hurts the son. Once the inspector approves a few dirty shipments, he's implicated and will continue to play ball and Michael will give him the son back. In the meantime, Michael's from out of town. He doesn't have a safe place to keep the kid. He needs Obregon to stash the son for him for awhile. Obregon will go for it. Once he has the inspector's son, he has the leverage and can cut Michael out."

"Use Obregon's greed against him," Fiona said.

"And Obregon doesn't have anywhere to stash the kid except the safe house where he has the girls," Sam said. "It might work. Kinda risky for the kid, though. Who we gonna use?"

Chuck took a deep breath. The next word was one of the hardest he had ever uttered in his life. "Me," he said.

Casey stood up. "Are you out of your mind?"

"It has to be me," Chuck said. "I'm the only one Obregon hasn't seen."

"No," Casey said firmly.

"Casey. It's Sarah," Chuck said.

"Let me talk to you for a moment, _Carmichael_," Casey said. He grabbed Chuck by the back of the neck and led him over to the far corner of the loft. He backed Chuck into the corner. As they walked over, Michael whispered something to Sam.

"Look, Bartowski," Casey said. "That noggin's of yours is U.S. Government property and you have no right to risk the Intersect on some harebrained stunt."

"Sarah would do it for me," Chuck said.

"Yes, she would," Casey agreed. "So would I. It's our jobs. My job, Walker's job, is to protect you at all costs. That means that _we_ risk ourselves for _you_, _you_ don't risk yourself for _us_. If Walker were here, she'd tell you the same thing."

"I'm sorry, Casey," Chuck said. "This is something I have to do." He glanced behind Casey and gave a very slight nod to Sam.

Sam swung a black-jack and it connected with the back of Casey's head with a thud. Casey crumpled to the floor.

"He's gonna be mighty pissed when he wakes up," Sam said.

"He's gonna kill me," Chuck said mournfully.

"No. He can't kill _you_," he told Chuck. "He'll probably just break your legs. _Me_, he's gonna kill."

Chuck took a deep breath and looked over at Michael. "Make the call."

Michael dialed the phone. "Enrique? Michael. I need a favor."

After a brief conversation, Michael said, "He agreed. I'm supposed to bring Chuck to the parking lot where I met him earlier tonight. He looked at his watch. It was past midnight. "I guess by now, last night."

"I grabbed these from the house," Fiona said, holding up Sarah and Carina's clothes.

"Perfect, "Michael said. "I could kiss you, Fi."

Fiona smiled. "I wouldn't stop you."

So Michael did. Unfortunately, from Fiona's point of view, it was a quick, chaste kiss.

Michael grabbed Sarah's pants and ripped the hem out, retrieving the mini GPS transceiver. He handed it to Chuck. Chuck regarded it for a moment. It was about the diameter of a dime, but a little thicker. After all, it had once resided in his watch. Chuck shrugged, stuck it in his mouth, and swallowed it. He had to swallow several times to get it down and it still felt like it was stuck in his throat. He ran over to the sink and downed a large glass of water.

Fiona, Michael and Sam just stared at him. "I guess this too shall pass," Sam finally said. Fiona hit him.

Coughing a little, Chuck turned back to the Miami threesome. "Just do me a favor," he said. "Don't tell Casey I did that."

"He'd be mad that it might hurt you?" Michael asked.

"No," Chuck said with a shudder. "He'd make me eat one a day so he'd always know where I was."

"How long do you figure it will keep working in your stomach?" Michael asked. "It can't be the best environment for electronics."

"Hopefully long enough," Chuck said. "Just long enough."

Fiona looked at the computer. "Well, we are still getting a signal. And it looks like Obregon is on the move. He must be headed to the club."

"Okay," Michael said. "Just in case, once we make the transfer, we're going to run a three-way tail on Obregon for as long as he has Chuck. Sam, you take Casey's suburban. Fi, take your Saab. He hasn't seen that. I'll drive Chuck there in my car, then ditch it and pick up something else."

"What's a three-way tail?" Chuck asked.

"When you're tailing someone," Michael explained. "It's best to use at least three cars in contact with each other and rotate them out so the guy you're tailing doesn't always see the same car behind him and notice the tail."

Fiona walked over to Chuck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "It's a very brave thing you're doing, Chuck. Don't worry. I promise we won't lose you."

Sam clapped him on the back. "I know how much Sarah means to you," he said. "We'll get her back."

"They both mean a lot to me," Chuck said. "Sarah _and_ Carina."

Sam glanced over at Fiona, who had an enigmatic smile. She in turned glanced over at Michael. They all three knew exactly who Chuck was doing this for.

"Mikey, you got any zip ties?" Sam asked.

"Sure." He pulled open a drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a bag, then tossed it to Sam. Sam walked over to Casey and zip-tied his hands. "All right, Mike. Help he carry him down to the car."

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Michael asked.

"It'd be a worse idea to leave him behind," Sam said. "He's gonna want to be there for the takedown."

"Okay," Michael said. He grabbed Casey's feet while Sam grabbed him under the shoulders.

"My God," Sam groaned. "Go on a diet, Casey."

While they carried Casey down the car, Fiona spoke to Chuck. "Better leave your wallet, cell phone and any other valuables," she told him. "They'll take it all away from you." She resisted the urge to reach up and brush a stray curl away from his forehead. "When you're a prisoner, a lot of people think they need to act macho. To show they're not afraid." She shook her head. "The best thing you can do is act meek and frightened. That way they won't feel compelled to beat the resistance out of you. Make them think that you've already given up."

Chuck looked at her. This woman, a hardened IRA fighter, gunrunner and bank robber, reminded him for just a moment of his mother in her tender ministrations. "Thank you, Fiona," Chuck said. "For everything."

Fiona darted forward and threw her arms around Chuck's neck and held tight to him for a moment. Awkwardly, Chuck returned the hug.

When she heard the door open, Fiona slowly released her grip and backed away from Chuck. She turned to look at Michael and gave a heavy sigh. Michael thought he saw the glint of a tear in her eye.

"What are we standing around here for?" Fiona suddenly said in a harsh voice. "You men. Always standing around when there's work to be done." She turned and strode out the door and Michael pretended that he didn't see her angrily rub her eye with the heel of her hand.

Michael waited while Chuck emptied his pockets and laid his possessions on the work table. Then he turned back to Michael. His face was a mask of fear and pain.

"We don't have to do this," Michael said. "We can come up with another plan."

"No," Chuck said. "There's no time. The longer we wait the greater the chance they'll hurt Sarah… and Carina." He turned and headed out the door. Michael followed behind him, impressed at the young man's courage. Michael had been in the business long enough to know that the brave man was not the one who didn't know fear. Only an idiot or a fool wouldn't be afraid. The brave man was the one who moved ahead despite his twisted gut and shaking knees. It had been a long time since Michael had known fear like that. He had gotten inured to the fear. But he remembered what it was like. Remembered hearing his drunken father stumble up the stairs angrily yelling his name. And because Michael remembered his fear, he appreciated Chuck's courage all the more.

Michael locked the door to the loft and headed down the stairs to the car where Chuck was waiting.

###

After being picked up by Obregon's henchman, a thug who went by 'Mano,' Sarah and Carina were driven to a small frame house in a rundown neighborhood. Mano parked the van in the garage and ordered the 'girls' to get out. Sarah and Carina complied. Instead of huddling together, like they had in the van in order to appear cowed and frightened, they moved slightly apart in order to have freedom of movement if they needed to fight.

When Sarah slowed slightly, Mano gave her a shove. While that often caused the other girls that he pushed around to trip and fall, Sarah kept her feet. Mano didn't notice that her excellent balance allowed her to roll with the push and dance easily with it so that she didn't even stumble.

As the approached the back door of the house, it opened and a small, weasel-faced man with stringy black hair stepped out. "_What you got_?" he called to Mano in Spanish.

"_Fresh meat_," Mano called back in Spanish. "_We're supposed to put them with the other girls._"

As Sarah and Carina passed him on the way into the house, Weasel-face gave each a pat on the bottom. "_Not bad looking_," he said to Mano. "_Maybe we should have a taste before we take them over to the house._"

"_Sure_," Mano said. "_If you want Obregon to cut your balls off and stuff them down your throat. You know no one touches the girls before him. He likes them fresh_."

Weasel-face shrugged. "_If we didn't tell him…_"

A third man stepped out of the front room where he had evidently been watching a telenovela. He was thin and his face was pocked marked with scars. His arms were covered with needle-marks. "_Shut up_," he told Weasel-face. "_You're always talking big, but Obregon already carries your balls in his pocket._"

Weasel-face took a step toward Needle-tracks, but Mano put a beefy hand on his shoulder. "_We got a job to do_." He gave Sarah and Carina a shove toward a room at the back of the house.

"Take off your clothes," he told them, speaking now in heavily accented English.

"Why?" Sarah asked meekly. "What are you going to do to us?"

The men did not realize that both she and Carina had understood every word of their conversation. But Sarah had to continue her ruse of being a scared young girl from the Mid-West. One who would be afraid to take off her clothes in front of three strange men.

Mano stepped forward and grabbed the back of Sarah's shirt and ripped it off. Carina screamed and ran toward the corner of the room. Weasel-face strode over to her and smiled. His teeth were stained and rotting. "Take off your clothes," he said, raising a hand as if to strike her. Meekly, Carina began to respond. While the three men were looking at Carina, Sarah palmed the knife hidden in the waistband of her pants and slipped it unto her bra's back strap, and then began to take off her clothes.

Soon, both women were standing there in just their underwear, shivering despite the heat. All three men looked at them appreciatively. The frumpy clothes had hidden some very interesting and delightful curves.

All three men stood staring for awhile before finally Mano motioned to Needle-tracks and he picked up the clothes. He rifled through them looking for any valuables before throwing them on the bed.

"_Bring them_, Mano said to Weasel-face and Needle-tracks. The men readily complied, taking the opportunity to fondle the girls as they led them back out to the van.

"_You drive_," Mano told Weasel-face, throwing him the keys.

"_You drive_," Weasel-face said, throwing them back. "_I'll watch the girls_."

"_Like Hell you will_," Mano growled. "_I don't trust either one of you and Obregon entrusted the girls to me_." He threw the keys back to Weasel-face, who promptly dropped them and had to fumble in the dark to find them again.

Weasel-face climbed into the driver's seat and Mano motioned Needle-tracks to sit up front with him. Mano shoved the girls into the van, then climbed in and sat between them, putting an arm around each one. "_Now this_," he said, "_is riding in style._"

Sarah never felt as dirty in her life as she did when the van finally reached its destination and she got out. She looked around. They were at a large, two-story house surrounded by a chain link fence and with burglar bars on the windows and doors. A tall, unkempt hedge just inside the chain-link fence hid the house from view from the street.

Mano shoved the girls forward toward the house. As they walked up the front porch, the front door opened and a hard-looking Cuban woman stepped out. She had that worn look Sarah recognized as common to former prostitutes.

"_Who are these two_?" she asked Mano in Spanish.

"_Obregon told me to pick them up and bring them here. That's all I know_," Mano answered.

The woman looked over the two girls. Sarah's thoughts turned to the knife that was hidden in the back strap of her bra, but she willed her hand not to move toward it.

"_Bring them inside_," the woman told Mano, then walked back into the house.

Once they were inside, the woman turned back to Sarah and Carina. "What are your names?" she asked.

"Stacey," Sarah said meekly. "Stacey Brannigan."

"Brittany Collier," Carina answered, her voice shaking with apparent fear.

"I am Lupe," the woman said. "This is my house. You will do what I say and do exactly what I say or you will be punished. Do you understand?"

The girls both nodded.

"Answer me when I speak to you!" she shouted.

"Yes," Sarah said, a moment before Carina echoed her.

Lupe's hand shot out and she slapped Sarah. "Yes, _Ma'am_," she shouted. "This is my house. You will treat me with respect!"

Sarah rubbed her cheek. "Yes, ma'am," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Carina echoed.

That appeared to appease her for now. "Follow me," Lupe ordered. She led Sarah and Carina up the stairs. There were five doors. One, the door to a bathroom, was open. The other four doors were closed. "There are eight other girls in the house right now." She took out a key and unlocked a door, then pushed it open. "This will be your room for now."

Sarah and Carina stepped into the room. Three mattresses on the floor were the only furnishing in the room. There were bars on the windows. "You better get some sleep," Lupe told them. "Obregon will no doubt be here to see you before long." She stepped out and Sarah clearly heard the sound of the door being locked.

The moment the door was locked, Sarah and Carina's demeanor changed. Gone were the two frightened girls. In their place were two trained, deadly agents. The first thing they did was to scour every inch of the room looking for bugs. Finding none, they sat down on the mattresses and leaned close to whisper to each other. Just in case, they spoke to each other in German.

"_I counted five guards, plus the house mother_," Sarah said.

"_I heard snoring from the back of the first floor_," Carina said. "_Two distinct tones, so figure two more._"

"_I didn't see any surveillance or alarms_," Sarah said. _"You?_"

Carina shook her head. "_The guard watching the front room had a Smith and Wesson M&P40. 15 shot magazine. None of the others were armed but they may have weapons elsewhere in the house. It's a good bet._"

"_Agreed_," Sarah said, nodding her head.

Carina stood up. "_So let's bust out of here and take them down_," she said. "_Piece of cake_."

"_Remember,_" Sarah said, getting to her feet, "_the primary mission is to get all the girls out safely. We don't move until we get more intel. You always go in guns blazing._"

"_Not much chance of that this time_," Carina said. "_I left my gun in my other underwear._"

###

**Author's Note**: Well, it's late so that's enough for tonight. I thought you'd want to see what Sarah and Carina have been up to.


	9. The Handoff

If you haven't figured it out by now, is there any point in saying it? Oh well. I don't own either _Chuck_ or _Burn Notice._

Thanks again to **Poa **for the proofreading duties for the last chapter. It has been corrected and updated.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 9

The Handoff

Michael stopped the car two blocks from the parking lot for the Calle Sinco club where he was supposed to meet Enrique Obregon again. He turned to Chuck. "I'm really sorry, Chuck, but I think you need to ride the rest of the way in the trunk. Obregon is going to get suspicious if we drive up with you sitting in the passenger seat."

"You ever ridden in a trunk?" Chuck asked. "It's not terribly roomy."

"So you've ridden in a trunk before?" Michael asked.

"More times than I care to admit," Chuck said.

Michael was about to offer a snide comeback, but the look on Chuck's face cut him off. "Last chance. It's not too late to call this off and come up with another plan. We can backtrack Obregon's GPS movements and see if we can correlate where he stops most often. One of them may be the safe house."

Chuck shook his head. "It'd take forever to check out all the locations. Besides, there's no way to be sure that any of them would even check out as the safe house. We've only been tracking him a little more than 24 hours."

Michael couldn't argue with the kid's logic. With a little seasoning, the kid would make a decent operative, he thought. Then corrected himself. No. Chuck had too much heart for this line of work. Best to leave the spying to the cynical realists from dysfunctional families.

"Let's do it," Michael said. He got out and Chuck, after taking a deep breath and making fists with his hands to relieve the tension, got out as well. Michael produced a zip tie and fastened Chuck's in front of him. "Normally you fasten a prisoner's hands behind them," Michael said, "But Obregon doesn't know I'm a trained operative so he will hopefully think I just got sloppy. It's a lot more comfortable to have your hands in front."

Michael shook his head. Why did he keep explaining things to Chuck? Ever since this mission started, he'd been explaining what he was doing, giving the kid pointers on spycraft, essentially mentoring him. This Chuck was really getting to him.

Michael opened the trunk and Chuck climbed in. Michael had taken everything else out in order to make it as comfortable for Chuck as possible, but Michael knew from way too much personal experience that there was no way to make a ride in the trunk anything but unpleasant. He leaned over and put a piece of duct tape over Chuck's mouth. "Can you breathe all right?" he asked.

Chuck nodded.

"Okay, watch your head," he told Chuck as he shut the trunk.

He got back in and started up the car, then called Fiona. "He's in the trunk. I'm going to go make the handoff." He called Sam and relayed the same message, but also asked, "How's Casey?"

"He's moaning pretty regular so he should come out of it fairly soon."

"Yeah," Michael said. "Good luck with that."

"Not to worry," Sam said. "I gotta plan."

Michael drove the last two blocks to the parking lot of the club where Obregon's car was sitting by itself, far from the other cars. Michael pulled up next to him and got out. Obregon waited for a moment, a typical power play move Michael recognized. Then he slowly got out.

"Good morning, Michael," he said. "I was surprised to get your call. I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

"Well," Michael said in his affected drawl. "As soon as I left you, I started to put the plan in effect to bring in the product. Then that son of a bitch customs inspector gets cold feet. I worked for three months to get the dirt on the bastard, and then at the last minute he decided that it ain't enough." Michael popped open the trunk. "So I grabbed Daddy's little boy and told Daddy that unless he played ball, I would mail him the kid back a piece at a time."

"He will not just go to his superiors or the police?" Obregon asked, looking at Chuck the way one might at a bug on the bottom of one's shoe.

"Nah," Michael said. "He's real partial to the kid. Only child, nervous mother, all that. Listen, we've got to make sure _nothing_ happens to the kid. Daddy finds out he's hurt in any way and he _will_ stop playing ball. You said you have somewhere you can stash him? Somewhere safe?"

"He will be safe," Obregon said. "I will put him in the house where I keep the mules. No one but my people know the location."

It was exactly what Michael wanted to hear, but he had to play this carefully. "Are you sure that's such a good idea?"

Chuck's eye went wide. 'Oh my God,' he thought. 'Michael's betrayed me.'

He started to rise up out of the trunk, but Michael harshly pushed him back down. "I mean," Michael said. "Keeping him there with all those girls?"

"He will be fine," Obregon assured him. "You have my word."

Michael shrugged and pulled Chuck roughly out of the trunk. Obregon opened his trunk and they shoved Chuck in. Obregon slammed the trunk shut a little harder than was really necessary and then said, "And now, let us talk about my compensation."

Seven minutes later, Obregon pulled out of the lot. Michael immediately called Fiona. "He's on the move, Fi."

"I was getting worried, Fiona said. "What took so long?"

"Obregon wanted to renegotiate the deal now that he's got leverage. I had to cut my delivery fee for the product by ten percent."

"And that took ten minutes?" Fiona asked.

"I had to haggle," Michael said. "It had to look good. He said he's taking Chuck to the safe house."

"Okay," Fiona said. "I've got him. Visual and Chuck's GPS signal is still strong."

"Don't lose him, Fi."

"Not a chance, Michael," Fiona said. "Not a chance in hell."

Michael called Sam. "Okay, Sam," Michael said. "Obregon took the bait. He's on the way to the safe house. Fiona's on him first. Coordinate with her for the change-over. I've got to get a new car."

Michael pulled his car a block away from the club and parked his car. Then he headed back to the club's lot and went 'car shopping.'

###

Sam pulled over to the side of the road. This next operation, in some ways, was the trickiest one of the entire mission. Sam leaned over and broke a capsule of ammonia under Casey's nose.

Casey thrashed violently and jerked his head back. He blinked back the tears forming in his eyes and looked around, dazed for a moment, then focused an angry gaze on Sam.

"Sam," Casey growled. "I'm going to _kill_ you. Then I'm going to _really_ hurt you." He went to lunge for Sam, but came up short when a sharp pain cut into his wrist. He looked down. He had been zip-tied to the car door.

"Casey, buddy," Sam said, holding his hands up. "It's not what you think."

"I think I was hit over the head, dragged to my own car and zip-tied to the door," Casey said through clenched teeth.

"Okay, Sam said. "It is what you think. But I had nothing to do with this."

"You're driving my car."

"Okay," Sam said. "I had something to do with this. But let me explain, and then I'll cut you loose. As long as you promise not to hurt me."

"Start talking," Casey growled.

"You see," Sam said. "That's not really a promise not to hurt me. A promise would contain the words, well, 'I promise.'"

"I promise," Casey said.

"Close enough," Sam said. "You'd probably kill me anyway even if you did promise."

"Sam," Casey growled.

"Okay, Okay." Sam said. "Fiona hit you."

"What?" Casey asked.

"It was Fiona. You know how women are. Once she heard how Chuck was being all noble to save Sarah and Carina, she got all soft and," here he started speaking in a falsetto, "Oh. Isn't it romantic that Chuck's going to go save those poor girls?"

Casey narrowed his eyes. "Calm center, Casey," Sam said. "Don't lose your calm."

"Too late," Casey said.

"Anyway," Sam said. "I tried to stop her but she walked over and whacked you a good one. Is your head okay?"

"I am going to kill Bartowski," Casey rumbled.

"Who?" Sam asked.

"Never mind," Casey said. "Where's, uh, Carmichael?"

"Michael just delivered him to Obregon. Obregon is taking him to the safe house."

"Then what the hell are we sitting here for?" Casey asked. "Drive!"

Sam turned to and started the car.

"Cut me loose first, you **moron**."

Sam pulled out a knife and started to lean across Casey to cut the zip tie. He paused. "Remember, you promised."

Casey growled and Sam quickly cut the plastic tie. Casey reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a Sig Sauer P250. He pulled the magazine and checked the rounds in the mag and then rammed the magazine home and chambered a round.

All the while, Sam drove, but kept glancing over at Casey. "Watch the road," Casey said. "I'm not gonna kill you until _after_ the mission."

Sam honestly didn't know whether Casey was joking or not.

###

Sarah and Carina lay upon the mattresses in 'their' room. It was best not to make a play right away, Sarah finally convinced Carina. That's when their captors would expect it. Best to wait a bit to allow their captors to relax their guard. But that meant waiting. Neither woman was particularly good at waiting. Finally, the silence got to Carina.

"_So_," Carina asked. "_Have you and Chuck slept together yet_?" Carina asked. This time she was speaking in Farsi, just for practice.

Sarah turned and glared at her. "_What kind of question is that_?" She likewise spoke Farsi.

"_Interesting_," Carina said. "_That's not a 'no'. So you _are_ sleeping with him._"

"_Chuck is a member of my team_," Sarah said.

"_That didn't stop you with Bryce_," Carina pointed out.

"_Chuck is an asset_," Sarah said. "_It's different. Besides, Bryce was a mistake._"

"_Oh, come on, Sarah. What's wrong with a little roll in the hay? I've heard that nerds can be quite passionate in bed_." Unfortunately, there was no Farsi word for 'nerd' she had to use English for that.

"_How is this even any of your business_?" Sarah asked.

"_Oh, I don't know_," Carina said. "_He's kind of cute. Obviously pretty passionate. I was thinking that after this mission I might do him myself._"

"_You stay away from him_," Sarah hissed and sat part way up on her mattress. Fortunately, hissing the phrase was much easier in Farsi.

"_Jealous_?" Carina asked.

"_Hardly_," Sarah said. "_For one thing Chuck would never… You're not… There's nothing to be jealous about._"

"_Oh, I don't know,_" Carina said. "_I usually get what I want._" She paused. "_Come to think of it. I usually get what _you_ want, too_."

Sarah grabbed the edges of the mattress and squeezed as hard as she could. She knew Carina was baiting her. It was Carina's second favorite pastime. She lay back down on the mattress and took several deep breaths, just as her academy instructor had told her. She tried to change the subject.

"_You think one of the girls might be a mole_?" she asked.

Carina chuckled softly. "_All right. We don't have to talk about Chuck. For now._" She thought for a moment. "_Didn't Michael brief us that some of the girls have been mules for Obregon for over a year_?"

"_Yes_," Sarah confirmed.

"_Plenty of time for at least one of the girls to develop trauma-bonding_," Carina said. Trauma bonding was a phenomenon whereby a victim develops a bond with their abuser and will refuse to leave them, or even assist them, despite a chance to escape the abuse.

"_So it may be better to take out the guards before we release the girls_," Sarah said. "_And we certainly can't tell the girls who we are or why we're here_."

"_Agreed_," Carina said.

"_Well, sneaking them out the back was never really an option anyway_," Sarah sighed. She stood up. "_I guess we've waited long enough_."

"_Bogotá_?_ The governor's mansion_?" Carina asked.

Sarah thought for a moment, and then nodded. "_That'll work_."

Both women took a moment to get back into character. Then Sarah walked over and knocked gently on the door. "Hello? Hello? Is anybody there? I have to go to the bathroom."

There was no answer. She tried knocking and calling a little louder. Still no response. She banged on the door. "Please! Help. I have to go to the bathroom. _Really bad!_"

There was a thudding of footsteps coming up the stairs. "Shut up in there," a man's voice called through the door.

"_Please_," Sarah whined. "I have to pee _really, really bad_."

There was the sound of someone fumbling with keys, then the scraping of the key in the lock. Sarah stepped back from the door. Weasel-face entered. Sarah stepped back, cringing away from him. He shook his head, stepped toward her, and reached out to grab her arm. With one swift move, Sarah grabbed his arm, swung it around behind his back, and then spun him around to face Carina. Carina's fist lashed out and drove hard into his nose. His head snapped back and there was a sickening crunch as the cartilage in his nose shattered. Sarah had to dodge his head as it whipped backwards, almost catching her in the face.

It all happened so fast, he didn't have time to shout. Sarah released him and he slid to the floor. "Would you be a little more careful?" Sarah whispered angrily. "You almost hit me with his head."

Carina shrugged. "You moved in time."

Sarah shook her head, then pulled out her knife and cut some of the mattress ricking into straps and tied up Weasel-face, not that he was going to be going anywhere anytime soon. Carina searched him for weapons. All she found was a switchblade. She shrugged and slipped it into the waistband of her panties.

Sarah stood and looked at Carina, who nodded. She nodded toward Weasel-face. Carina shook her head 'no.' Sarah made a more emphatic head-nod toward Weasel-face. Carina just smiled and shook her head 'no' again.

With a sigh, Sarah got back down on the mattress and pulled the unconscious Weasel-face over to her so that it looked like he was trying to molest her.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Sarah screamed. "Get off me! Get off me!"

There was more pounding of feet on the stairs and Mano came busting into the room, followed closely by Lupe. Both were disheveled and partly undressed. "Paco!" Mano bellowed as he charged into the room. "I warned you. Get…" He never finished the sentence as Carina's foot came flashing out from beside the door and knocked his head sideways. Sarah pushed the limp form of Weasel-face a/k/a Paco off of her and her hand flashed with a knife that buried itself deep in Mano's thigh. He went down and Lupe, charging in after him, plowed right into him and the two collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Sarah sprang off the mattress and over to the pair. She grabbed a handful of Lupe's hair and slammed Lupe head into the back of Mano's head. Her forehead rebounded nicely and she crumpled in a heap on the floor. "Sorry about that, _ma'am_," Sarah said.

Mano was moaning and clutching his thigh. Carina stepped over to him and grabbed the back of his head pulled his head backwards. She held the point of the switchblade up to his jugular. "_How many more guards_?" she asked in Spanish.

Mano moaned. "_How many more_?" The point of the knife dug into his throat, drawing blood. "_Five_," he answered.

"_Thank you_," she said, then slammed the fist holding the knife into his jaw. His head whipped to the side, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed. She checked him quickly for weapons. Finding none, Carina pulled Sarah's knife out of his thigh, wiped it on the back of his shirt, and stood. "Sarah," she called, and tossed her the knife. "We were right," she said. "Five more."

'Five more,' Sarah thought. 'And at least one of those is armed.'

###

**Author's Note**: Another short one, but it's late again and since my son insisted on snuggling on the couch for a movie and popcorn tonight, that cut into my writing time. But it was _so _worth it.

But he and I did score two sheets of 3-D Chuck glasses this morning. One sheet for us and one sheet for the little neighbor girls he plays with. Ah, young love.


	10. An Unexpected Meeting

As usual, I am indebted to **Poa** for proofreading Chapter 9. It has been corrected and uploaded.

This Chapter took a little longer. First the Super Bowl. Then my son had poison ivy. Then I had to watch the new 3-D Chuck.

But at last, here is…

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 10

An Unexpected Meeting

After turning Chuck over to Obregon, Michael parked his car a block away from the club and hurried back to the club's parking lot on foot. In order to assist Sam and Fiona with tailing Obregon, he needed a car Obregon would not recognize. His own car, an old Charger his father had been fixing up, was much too distinctive. He looked around the lot until he found what he was looking for. An old grey Camaro. With his skills he could have stolen any car, but old cars were much easier. Fewer theft deterrent systems. Further, older cars lacked airbags. That could prove crucial if he ended up having to force Obregon off the road. In a crash, an airbag generally knocked you out for a couple seconds. Sometimes those seconds were crucial. Michael didn't like stealing cars, and he always tried to return them, but sometimes ethics gave way to necessity. A few moments later, he was roaring out of the parking lot.

Once he was on the move, he called Fiona. "He's headed south on 95," she said. "This safe house must be on the other side of town from the one we raided."

"Okay, Fi. You've been on him long enough. Time to let Sam take a turn."

Fiona called Sam and relayed her location, then slowly began to accelerate until she passed Obregon. By the time she did, Sam and Casey in Casey's suburban were tailing Obregon. Sam called Michael. "I'm on him Michael. We've got visual and are tracking both the GPS in our cell-phone bug and Chuck's GPS. Mikey, you should see the tracking system Casey's got built into this Suburban. We really ought to look into getting a setup like this."

"Later Sam, just don't lose him," Michael said.

"No problem, Mike. We're… Wait a minute. He's turning off. Better hurry up and get up here. Okay, he's exited the freeway and we're… You've got to be kidding. Mike! He's going through a Starbucks. Since when do scumbag drug dealers with people in their trunk drive through a Starbucks?"

"Drive on past, Sam," Michael said. Fiona's a block away and she can drive past to check on him while he's in line. I'll be there in a couple minutes."

Michael accelerated. He really didn't like speeding in a stolen car, but sometimes you had to take a chance.

Fortunately, this time the chance paid off. Michael got to the Starbucks just as Obregon was pulling out of the parking lot. Michael was able to swing in behind Obregon as he reentered the freeway, headed south.

###

At the safe house, Sarah motioned Carina to watch the stairs while she went quickly to run a sweep of the upstairs bathroom. Then she went to each of the other three doors, what she assumed were the bedrooms holding the other girls, and listened carefully at the door. From one room she heard the soft whimpering of a girl. There were no sounds from the others. At least none she could hear through the door.

She moved silently to the stairs and whispered in Carina's ear. "The bathroom is clear and there are no sounds coming from the other rooms other than the sound of a girl whimpering."

"Plenty of noise from downstairs," Carina said. Sarah could hear the sound of music and voices. She looked questioningly at Carina. "Telenovela," Carina said. "Not one of the better ones. Think it's our friend with the bad teeth and the needle tracks?"

Sarah looked annoyed. "They're supposed to come running up the stairs when they hear the sounds of the fight," Sarah said.

"Guess they haven't read the bad guy handbook," Carina said. "What now?"

Sarah thought for a moment. She climbed onto the railing above the stairs and then turned around and held the railing and braced her feet just above the opening to the stairwell. Carina stepped out of the line of sight of the stairs and then assumed a 'ready' stance. Sarah cleared her throat and yelled down in her best gravelly-voice Spanish, trying to imitate Lupe's voice, "Get up here. We need a hand with these new girls." From downstairs came the sound of cursing, and then the thud of feet approaching the stairs.

Carina watched the shadow coming up the stairs, and when she judged the moment was right, she nodded to Sarah. Sarah pushed off with her feet and swung back and let go of the railing. Her feet kicked backwards and she started to drop down the stairwell. At the last moment, she grabbed the base of two of the railing spindles. Her downward momentum stopped, her feet now swung in an arc that drove them right into the face of the man coming up the stairs. She let go and allowed her momentum to drive her into her target. She piled into him and he tipped backwards, falling back down the stairs and knocking down a second man who was coming up right behind him. All three landed in a heap at the base of the stairs. Sarah was on top, but temporarily winded by the fall. Beneath her was Needle-tracks, evidently the first one coming up the stairs. He was out cold. Beneath him was another man – the one Sarah had mentally dubbed Smith & Wesson for the weapon he was carrying. He was temporarily stunned and was pinned beneath both Sarah and Needle-tracks. Carina came barreling past the stunned pile of bodies and delivered a swift kick to Smith & Wesson's jaw that snapped his head back and into the floor with a sickening 'crunch.'

Carina immediately crouched to pull the pistol from Smith & Wesson's hand. Sarah untangled herself from Needle-tracks and staggered to her feet. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs and looked over at Carina. Carina held up three fingers. Three guards left.

There came a shout from the other room and bullet whizzed past Sarah and embedded itself in the wall behind Carina. Sarah immediately ducked back into the stairwell while Carina squeezed off two rounds, and then joined her.

"About time we got to the gunplay," Carina said. "I was beginning to think this bunch was going to be a pushover."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "In case you've forgotten, Carina, you're the only one of us with a gun." Another two shots rang out and embedded in the wall at the base of the stairs.

"The report that time was different than the first shot," Carina said. "So we've got at least two shooters."

Two more shots rang out. "Make that three," Carina said.

Carina pulled the clip on her pistol and checked it. "Thirteen shots left," she said. "Check him," she nodded down at Smith & Wesson. Sarah grunted as she grabbed the thug's shoulders and pulled him back into the stairwell where she could check him without exposing herself.

"Nothing," she said to Carina. "If they rush us, can you get all three?"

"Maybe," Carina said. "But they won't. Drug dealers aren't known for their bravery. None of them wants to be the one to take a bullet. They'll keep us pinned down while they call for backup."

"Wonderful," Sarah said.

"You go back upstairs and get the girls out,' Carina said. "I checked. The burglar bars on our window were rusted. You should be able to break them out."

"I'm not leaving you, Carina," Sarah said.

"Don't think I can take all three by myself?" Carina asked.

"I just don't want you to have all the fun," Sarah replied. Then, reaching into the waistband at the back of her panties, she pulled out her knife. For what little good it would do her against three armed assailants.

###

Michael, Fiona, and Sam and Casey rotated following Obregon's car close enough to keep it in visual range. At least Fiona, in her Saab, and Sam and Casey in Casey's Suburban had GPS tracking of both Obregon and Chuck. Michael had no such luxury in his stolen Camaro. He vowed that next time they tried something like this, they were going to get radios. This constant calling each other on their cell phones was getting old.

Currently, Michael was Obregon's 'tail.' When Obregon slowed and cut over to the right hand lane, Michael called Sam. "I think Obregon's getting ready to exit," he said. Indeed, Obregon exited the highway. Michael continued on until the next exit and then immediately looped back. Meanwhile, Fiona took up the tail.

Tailing a subject in a residential area was a little trickier than following them on the freeway where there were generally more cars. Hopefully they would reach their destination soon.

###

Obregon was feeling pretty good. He had renegotiated his percentage with Michael, his new supplier. And the boy in the trunk gave him leverage. With a little work, he could do away with Michael and take over the importation himself. After all, if he had the son, he could control the father, the customs inspector, and the father was the key to the whole smuggling operation.

All he needed was time to grow big enough to challenge either Menocal or Cespedes and take over their organization. Time and men and guns. He _would_ rule Miami. He _would_ rule South Florida. It was his destiny. And now, for the first time, he felt that he was really on the way. Before it had been merely a dream. Now it was becoming a reality. The boy in the trunk was the key.

Damn! He forgot all about calling Lupe. Lupe did not like it when he brought in 'guests' to 'her house' unannounced. Besides, she would need to make arrangements to keep the boy separate from the mules.

He picked up his cell phone and sighed heavily. He was not exactly scared of the old prostitute, Lupe. It was just that she could be so _difficult_. He had no problem smacking around women. In fact, he did it quite often. It made him feel like more of a man. But Lupe was different. She was not afraid of him like the other girls. If he hit her, she just laughed at him. Besides, she reminded him too much of his mother.

He dialed the number of the safe house. It rang three times, six times, nine times. Finally, on the tenth ring, just as he was about to hang up, someone picked up the phone. "_What the hell is going on_?" Obregon yelled. "_Is everyone too busy to pick up the damned phone_?"

"_Obregon_!" came the voice on the other end. "_Thank God. We are under attack_!"

"_What_?" Obregon yelled. "_Under attack? What is happening? Put Lupe on the phone._"

"_Lupe is gone. Probably dead. We are under attack!_"

"_Who is this? Who's attacking? How many men_?"

"_This is Pablo,_" the man on the other end said, his voice rising in pitch. Obregon heard two quick shots in the background. "_We don't know who they are. They came out of nowhere. There must be five, six men. Big men. Lots of guns. They got Mano and Lupe and Paco and Che and Rodrigo_."

Obregon began to panic. Four of his seven men at the house were down. And some of his best, too. What should he do? He had to go to the house to salvage the situation. But on the other hand, that would mean putting both himself and the prize in his trunk in danger.

And who were these men? Had DEA agents somehow found the safe house and brought in a SWAT team? Or had Cespedes or Menocal found out about his plans and sent some men to take him out?

"_What is the situation now_?" Obregon asked the nervous Pablo.

"_They are in the stairwell. We have them pinned down for now. At least, they are not coming for us yet. Hurry, boss. Hurry. They will overrun us_."

"_Hold them off as long as you can_," Obregon said. "_I am on the way. I will bring help_."

"_We will do all we can, boss. Please hurry._"

Obregon cut the connection and dialed a number he hated to use. It was his half-brother, Raul Bolivar (same mother, different fathers). Raul ran one of the local gangs. He had men and guns in plenty, but he was always angling to get a piece of Enrique's business. The price of calling him for help would be high. But the price of _not_ calling for help could be _all_ of Enrique's business.

"Raul, it is Enrique." Enrique Bolivar spoke in English because, as his brother liked to say, 'I am an American, not a Cuban. I speak the language of my country. The country of opportunity. The opportunity to kick the shit out of anyone who disagrees with you.'

"Enrique," Raul said. "What a pleasant surprise, brother. You must be in deep shit."

"Someone is raiding my safe house. Eight to ten men. Lots of guns. I am on my way there. I need your help, Raul. I am about to lose everything. They must be hitting me because they know I am about to greatly expand. You must help me, Raul."

"Of course," Raul said. "But, big brother, it will cost you. It will cost you dearly."

Enrique Obregon paused. The words felt like ash in his mouth. "I will pay it, little brother. But you must hurry."

As soon as they cut the connection, Raul Bolivar smiled. He really did hate his older brother. This was the perfect opportunity to kill him and take over his business, all at the same time.

He threw a beer bottle over at a group of young men in a drunken sleep on a dirty couch across the room. "Wake up the brothers," Raul yelled. "Time to go have a little fun."

###

Back at the safe house, the 'five or six heavily armed men' were discussing their options. "They've probably already called for help," Sarah told Carina. "We need to get to them and take them down fast. How many shots do you have left?"

"Eight," Carina said. "What's the plan?"

Sarah poked her head around the corner just enough to get a good look at the living room. "I've got an idea. You said the burglar bars are weak in the room upstairs?"

"Yes," Carina said. "You reconsidering taking the girls out that way?"

"No," Sarah said. "Just me. I'm going to go out the window and see if I can come up behind them."

Carina looked at Sarah. For just a moment it looked like she was about to say something, but then she swallowed hard and seemed to change her mind. "Just go kick their asses," Carina said.

Sarah ran upstairs and back into the bedroom. Lupe was starting to stir, so she quickly grabbed some strips of mattress ticking to tie up her and Mano, cursing herself for not thinking of it earlier. She opened the windows and studied the burglar bars. The wood had rotted a little and the bars were a little rusty, but they didn't budge when she pulled at them. She pulled out her knife and with a sigh – she hated to dull the blade of one of her good knives - she began hacking at the wood. Within a couple minutes, she had it loosened sufficiently that she was able to give it a kick and send it clattering to the ground below. She cursed the noise. It might have given her position away. She heard two more shots from Carina's gun and knew she would have to move quickly.

It was a long drop to the ground and Sarah fell hard, twisting her ankle. She stood on it and pain shot up her leg, but she ignored it and crept around the side of the house.

She checked each window as she passed it, looking for the three remaining guards. Finally, as she got to the back of the house, she saw two of them, guns drawn, standing against the door-frame of the door from the kitchen to the living room. She couldn't see the third one. That could be a problem, but there was nothing she could do about that now. She crept silently onto the back porch and picked up a steel patio chair that was rusting on the porch. She took three deep breaths, then used the chair as a battering ram, hitting the back door at a dead run.

The door frame splintered and the door burst open. Sarah didn't stop and plowed chair-first into the first man. Trapped as he was between the steel chair and the wall, Sarah heard bones snap at the man was pinned to the wall. Using the advantage of surprise, Sarah dropped the chair with a clang and sent a roundhouse kick into the head of the other man. He recovered just enough to avoid the full force of the blow, but it did knock the gun out of his hand.

He lashed out at Sarah, who dodged his jabbing left, but a stunning right hit her square in the mouth. Sarah reeled, stunned, as her fake braces bit into the flesh of the inside of her lip. She recovered quickly enough to drop under the follow-up blow and sweep the man's leg. He toppled to the side and would have fallen if he had not caught himself against the wall. He smiled a feral grin and lashed out at Sarah with another combination of left and right jabs. This one, Sarah thought ruefully, actually had some training. Of course, so did she. She jabbed with her left and when he moved to block the blow, she swung her foot up in an arc that caught him in the temple. He staggered back and Sarah snapped a kick into groin that sent him sprawling across the floor.

He lay on the floor, moaning in pain, and Sarah looked down at him. She felt something warm on her mouth and reached up the back of her hand to wipe away a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth.

"You're getting a little rusty, Sarah," she heard Carina say as the DEA agent stepped over the body of the thug she had dispatched. "Your current assignment is letting you get a little soft." She grinned. "You know what I've found is great exercise?"

"I know all about your 'exercise routine,' Carina," Sarah panted. "I prefer to be dressed when I exercise."

Carina was about to say something when her eyes narrowed at something behind Sarah.

"Well," said Enrique Obregon. "It seems my new mules have quite the kick."

He had a sawed off shotgun aimed at the back of Sarah's head. "You," he told Carina. "Drop the gun and kick it over here to me."

Carina gave Sarah a little shake of the head. Sarah couldn't see Obregon so she didn't know that he carried the shotgun. A pistol you might be able to dodge. A shotgun's blast pattern made it impossible to avoid. Carina bent slowly down and placed her gun on the ground, then kicked it over to Obregon, making sure to kick it hard enough that it went just past him.

"Nice try," he said, backing up to pick up the pistol and stick it in his waistband.

"Now. Who are you? Clearly not a couple lost little girls from the Mid-West."

He smiled. "It doesn't matter, of course. I think I'll will enjoy…"

He never finished the sentence. His head snapped forward and there was a 'crack' as pieces of wood flew past him. Behind him, Chuck Bartowski stood with the splintered end of a wooden board in his hands.

Sarah looked at him in horror. "Chuck! What are you doing here?"

"It wasn't safe in the car," Chuck shrugged.


	11. The Gang's All Here

As always, thanks to **Poa** for proofreading Chapter 10 and to the others who offered some suggestions on the last chapter. I made a couple revisions and re-uploaded it.

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 11

The Gang's All Here

Chuck looked down at the prone form of Enrique Obregon, then he looked at the splintered board in his hand, and then back down at Obregon. "Oh God," he cried and tossed the board away as if it would bite him.

"Good job, Chuckie," Carina said. "Although next time you hit someone with a board, you might want to keep your eyes open. It helps in case they duck."

Chuck looked at Sarah and Carina, then back down at Obregon and backed away a couple steps. "Oh God," he said again. "You don't think I killed him, do you? I wasn't trying to kill him. I picked a soft board."

Obregon moaned and Carina walked over and kicked him. The moaning stopped. Carina picked up the sawed-off shotgun and tossed it to Sarah. Sarah barely caught it, so hard was she staring at Chuck.

"Chuck, what are you doing here?" Sarah asked. "Where's Casey?"

"I'm here to rescue you," he said. Then cringed. "That sounded a little too Luke Skywalker/Princess Leah, didn't it? Listen," he said. "Do you think you could get this off?" he asked, holding up his hands and showing her the zip-cuffs that still bound his wrists. "It's kind of starting to dig in."

Sarah rolled her eyes, then pulled out her knife and cut the plastic zip-tie. "Wait here!" Sarah ordered him, while she and Carina started to collect the guns from the various thugs.

Chuck looked nervously down at Obregon and the other two unmoving thugs and moved a couple steps toward the door. He would have stepped back out onto the porch if he didn't think that Sarah would yell at him for leaving the house.

Sarah came back in the kitchen and Chuck seemed to notice for the first time that she was dressed only in her underwear. "Oh!" he cried and pulled off his shirt and handed it to her. She smiled and pulled on the shirt. Carina stepped in the kitchen and Chuck noticed that she was in her underwear as well. "Oh, ah, sorry Carina. I just gave Sarah my shirt."

"That's okay, Chuck," Carina said, sidling up to him. "I'm comfortable."

"Yeah, but I'm not," Chuck replied.

"Okay, Chuck," Sarah said, stepping in to move Carina away from Chuck. "Tell me again. Where's Casey?"

Just then there came the sound of squealing tires from outside. Sarah and Carina immediately went into combat mode and moved to look out the windows without silhouetting themselves in them. Sarah looked back and grabbed Chuck's arm. "Get _down_, Chuck." Chuck immediately crouched below the level of the window.

Carina turned to them and smiled. "Looks like the cavalry's here," she said and stepped out onto the porch. Sarah gave her a surprised look and leaned over to peer out the door.

Out on the lawn, Casey and Sam were crouched behind Casey's Suburban dressed in full tac gear, sans helmets. "Hi, Casey. Hi Sam," Carina called, waving at them. "Come on in and enjoy the party." When they hesitated, Sarah stood and waved from the window. First Sam and then Casey slowly moved out from behind the Suburban and blinked at Carina in surprise. Then they started across the lawn.

Sam pulled out a cell phone and dialed Michael. "All clear, Mike. Sarah and Carina are here."

There was a sound from the front of the house and Chuck glanced into the front room in time to see Michael and Fiona enter, guns drawn. Slowly, Chuck stood and smiled at them. Fiona ran up to him and gave him a hug, prompting dirty looks from both Sarah and Michael. "I'm glad you're okay, Chuck," she said.

Michael looked around at the carnage strewn throughout the house. "Looks like you pretty much had things under control," he said to Sarah.

By now, Casey and Sam had entered the house and Casey glowered at both Chuck and Fiona.

Sarah marched up to Casey the minute he was in the door and glowered at him. "What the Hell were you thinking, Casey, letting Chuck do something like this? What is he even _doing_ here?"

Casey growled and turned to Chuck. "Care to take that one, Carmichael?"

"Um, I don't mean to break up the reunion," Michael said. "But maybe this can wait until _after_ we get the girls and get out of here?"

Chuck breathed a sigh of relief, but Sarah gave him a look that said, 'This isn't over' and Casey gave him a look that said, 'I'm going to remove your private parts with a dull knife and stuff them down your throat.'

Carina sidled over to Sam and said, "Good to see you all dressed up, Sam." Sam rolled his eyes and said rather loudly, "Mike! Want me to check upstairs?"

Sarah turned to Michael. "There's Obregon," she pointed to the heap on the kitchen floor surrounded by wood splinters. "Three more downstairs; two on the stairs; and three more upstairs. The girls are upstairs locked in their rooms. We haven't had time to check on them, yet."

Carina turned to Casey. "Casey, can I borrow your phone? I need to call a DEA cleanup team." Casey looked dubious, but he pulled out his phone and handed it to her. Before she could dial, there came the sound of multiple engines roaring in the street out front. This time, Sarah, Casey, Sam, Michael and Fiona all went into combat mode and dashed into the front room to take up firing positions to cover the new arrivals. Before he left the kitchen, Casey handed several pairs of handcuffs to Chuck. "Put these on Obregon and the others," he told Chuck. "And then keep your head down."

Chuck went to Obregon and rather gingerly lifted his wrist, then looked at the handcuffs. He tried to pull them apart, but they were locked. He pulled harder. Nothing. Then he remembered the toy handcuffs he'd had as a kid and remembered to push the wrist bar further around until the cuff came open. "Hey!" he said happily. Then he looked down at Obregon and back at the handcuffs. Gingerly, he slowly snapped the cuffs closed, careful not to make them too tight so it wouldn't be too uncomfortable.

At the front of the house, the five operatives and former operatives took a careful look out the window. The hedge around the house blocked most of the view, but they could make out that several vehicles had pulled up and disgorged numerous armed men. "Not exactly an ideal tactical situation," Casey grumbled. "Come on Sam, let's cover the back."

Sam and Casey headed back into the kitchen. Casey noted with disgust that Chuck had just finished hand-cuffing Obregon and was looking at the next pair of cuffs. Casey gave grunt number three (let me do that, idiot) and grabbed the cuffs from Chuck. He went to each of the other men and quickly and expertly slapped the cuffs on their wrists.

Sam caught some movement in the back and fired off a warning shot that sent three tough-looking kids scrambling back out of sight.

At the front of the house, a man opened the gate on the chain link fence and stepped through. He had a green bandana tied to his upper left arm. "You in the house," he yelled.

"Yeah?" Michael called back.

"I am Raul Bolivar," he said. "We have the house surrounded."

"Raul Bolivar," Michael said quietly to Sarah and Carina. "Leader of the Los Lobos gang. Word is he's Obregon's half brother." Then he yelled out to Raul, "What do you want?"

"I just want to talk," Raul yelled back. "Come on out and let us see how we can settle this matter."

Michael motioned for Sarah to hand him the sawed-off shotgun and handed her his pistol. Then he stepped out onto the front porch. "So what is there to settle?" he asked.

"Let us not be hasty," Raul said. "I have introduced myself. Do you not think you should do the same?"

"Michael Westen," Michael replied.

An odd look came across Raul's face. "I see his car, so I assume that you have my brother, Enrique Obregon?" Raul asked.

"Yes," Michael said. "Enrique's been having a bad day."

Raul chuckled. "I can believe that," he said. "I have heard of you, Michael Westen. You are getting a bit of a reputation around Miami."

"Well, you can't believe everything you hear," Michael said.

"It is said that if you cross Michael Westen, bad things happen to you."

Michael shrugged. "I'm just visiting in town for a bit."

Raul smiled. "I assume that my brother, Enrique, is going to be going out of business."

"Probably," Michael said. The longer he could keep Raul talking, the longer before bullets started flying. Of course, Raul could simply be stalling to allow his gang members time to take up positions around the house. Michael heard three light taps from somewhere above him and knew that Fiona had just taken a perch in an upstairs window.

"I have a proposition for you," Raul said. "I do not want to be one of those who cross Michael Westen."

The best negotiating technique, Michael knew, was often to simply let the other guy talk.

"Give me my brother, and we will leave. You can keep the rest."

"Enrique has a few things to answer for," Michael said.

Raul gave a feral smile that matched well the name of his gang, Los Lobos – The Wolves. "Oh, I promise you he will answer," Raul said. "My brother and I are not exactly what you would call... close."

Michael glanced back at the house. "Let me confer with my associates," he said.

Raul nodded and took a casual stance leaning up against the gatepost.

Michael walked back into the house.

"What do you think?" Sarah asked.

"I'm not giving up Obregon," Carina said. "A DEA tactical team will be here in ten minutes."

"In ten minutes we could all be dead," Michael said. "They've no doubt got the house completely surrounded by now. We're out-manned and out-gunned."

"We can take them," Carina said.

"Carina," Sarah said. "The important thing is to get Chuck and the girls out of the house. You can always pick up Obregon later." Michael gave her a dubious look. It was clear that he didn't think there would be anything to pick up later if they gave Obregon to Raul.

"No," Carina said.

"Please," Sarah said. "We're in enough trouble as it is. If anything happened to Chuck…"

Carina rolled her eyes. "We're going to have to have a serious talk about Chuck," she said.

Michael strode into the kitchen. Casey was kneeling in a firing position, covering the backyard from a window. Michael guessed that Sam must be in the next room, covering the rest of the back of the house from there. Chuck was huddled in a corner behind an overturned kitchen table.

Michael reached down and pulled Obregon to his feet. Obregon swayed but stayed standing.

"What's going on?" Chuck asked, standing.

"Keep down, Moron," Casey admonished him.

"Sorry," Chuck said, ducking back behind the table. "Where are you taking him?" Chuck asked.

"It's his brother out front," Michael said. "If we turn Obregon over, we all go free."

"Really?" Chuck asked. "But, after all he's done, he needs to go to jail. You can't just let him go."

"Believe me," Michael said. "Obregon isn't going free. Evidently he and his brother aren't exactly part of one big happy family."

"You mean his brother's going to…" Chuck swallowed. "His own brother?"

Michael nodded.

"Well then you can't turn him over," Chuck said. "Not if his brother's going to kill him."

"Better him than us," Casey said.

"But…" Chuck began.

"Chuck," Michael said. "It's an imperfect solution for an imperfect world. Surely you've been in the business long enough by now to know that sometimes you have to make sacrifices."

"No," Chuck said. He was standing again now. "No you don't. The right thing is always the right thing to do.'

Michael looked over at Obregon, then back at Chuck. He admired the young man his principles. Unfortunately, Michael had never had the luxury of such principles. "I'm sorry, Chuck," he said. Then he led Obregon out of the room.

Michael led Obregon through the front room and out the front door. He stopped on the porch, steadying Obregon as he swayed. "Here he is," Michael said. "I have your word?"

"You have my word, Michael Westen," Raul said. Then turning his head slightly to address Obregon. "Hello brother. Not so tough now, eh, hermano? There is something I have been wanting to tell you for awhile now."

Raul jerked his hand up and fired off two rapid shots that drilled Enrique Obregon in the chest and in the face. His blood spattered across Michael's face, chest and hand. Michael released him and Obregon slumped to the ground.

Raul pointed his gun at Michael. "You didn't see nothing," he said.

"No," Michael said, trying to maintain his temper. "I didn't."

"Good," Raul said, and turned and walked away. There was a sharp whistle and the Los Lobos gang members jogged back to their cars and got in. Then they started them up and drove away.

Michael looked down at Obregon, then stepped back into the house. Fiona came flying down the stairs. "Oh my God, Michael, are you all right?" she asked. Ignoring the blood that had spattered across his, she grabbed him in a tight embrace.

"I'm fine, Fi," he said.

"Oh Lord, Michael, I was worried he had hit you. I came so close to shooting him until I heard you speak." She ran her hands over his body, as if feeling to make sure he was all right.

"I'm fine, Fi," he repeated.

Sarah left the front room and went into the kitchen. "Casey," she ordered. "Get Chuck out of here. Go out the back way. I'll meet you at the loft."

"Sarah," Chuck asked. "What happened?"

Sarah looked at him and her face was a mask of weariness. "Go with Casey, Chuck."

"No, Sarah," Chuck pleaded. "I don't want to leave…"

"Chuck!" Sarah barked. "Just go! Now!"

The force of her words was so strong, Chuck actually took a step back.

"Come on, Carmichael," Casey said grabbing his arm. "We have some things to discuss."

"Sarah," Chuck whined, but Sarah actually turned her back on him to make him leave. It was her job to protect him. From anything. And she didn't think Chuck could handle what had just happened in front of the house.

Casey dragged Chuck out the back door and over to the Suburban. With a roar, Casey pulled out of the driveway and sped off.

Sarah walked back into the front room. Fiona finally released Michael and he stepped into the bathroom to wash off the worst of the blood and gore. Sam was standing in the doorway to the back room. He still held his gun out, but pointed at the floor. "Come on," Sarah said to him. "Let's go get the girls."

Sam and Sarah went upstairs. Lupe was starting to stir and Weasel-face was sitting up with his head between his knees.

"Where are the keys?" Sarah asked him. He looked up and he looked thoroughly miserable. Sarah advance to stand over him and asked again, a little louder. "Where are the keys?"

"I don't know," Weasel-face said. "I dropped them."

"Hey Sarah," Sam said, pointing with his gun to an object on the floor. "Are those them?"

Sarah looked down. The keys were less than a foot away from her. She had forgotten than Weasel-face dropped them when she and Carina had jumped him. God, she really was exhausted. She usually didn't forget something like that.

She picked up the keys and went to the first door. She fumbled with the lock, but finally got the door open. Three young girls in their early twenties were huddled together in the corner. The deadness in their eyes made her heart ache. She wondered if any of the girls would ever really recover from this.

Sam stepped into the doorway and one of the girls gave a shriek. "I don't usually have that effect on women," he said. Sarah didn't appreciate the attempt at humor and gave him a dirty look.

"It's okay," Sarah said to the girls. "We're here to help you. Are any of you hurt?'

None of them responded.

Sarah walked over to them and gently laid a hand on the closest one. "Are any of you hurt?" she asked gently. The girl, wide-eyed, shook her head.

"I'm Sarah," she said gently. "This is Sam. We came to get you out."

The girls huddled closer together, pressing into the corner.

"It's okay. Obregon is dead. We have all his men. He won't hurt you or your families."

After much coaxing, she got them to move and sent them downstairs. The scene was repeated in the other two rooms with the other five girls. Finally, with Sarah in the lead and Sam taking up the rear, they led the girls downstairs.

Michael and Fiona were just emerging from the bathroom, having washed off most of the blood. "Is one of you Rachel?" Michael asked.

There was no response.

"Your sister Emily sent me. Her boyfriend is my brother, Nate. It's okay."

Finally one girl moved shakily forward. "I'm Rachel," she said in a very small voice. "Are you going to take me home?"

"Yes," Michael said. The girl dashed forward and clung fiercely to Michael.

"Take me home," she crooned. "Take me home."

Fiona launched into mother hen mode and took the girls under her wing. She sent Sam searching through the house for some clothing, since all the girls were in their underwear. Sam found a stash of girl's clothes, evidently what they wore when they went on 'runs.' He distributed the clothing, including some for Sarah and Carina.

"We better get out of here," Sam cautioned. "The DEA will be here any minute and I, for one, don't want to answer a bunch of questions."

"The girls are witnesses," Carina said. "They'll need to testify. We can get this bunch on drug running, kidnapping, racketeering, weapons charges, who knows that else."

"I have your word they won't be prosecuted?" Michael asked. "They all get protection?"

Carina nodded. "You have my word."

Michael looked over at Sarah. Sarah nodded. "You can trust her."

"Rachel goes with us," Michael said.

"Fine," Carina said.

"Oh, and there's a stolen car about a block north of here," Michael said. "Grey Camaro. I'm not sure how it got there."

Carina smiled. "I'm sure I don't know either. Get out of here. I'll see you back at Michael's loft once I take care of things here."

Michael hustled Rachel out the back door and to Fiona's car. Sam looked at it skeptically. "You couldn't have waited on the Camaro, Mikey? It's gonna be a tight fit."

Fiona drive and Sam rode shotgun, since Rachel insisted on staying with Michael. She had evidently latched onto him as the tangible evidence of her deliverance. As soon as they pulled away, Michael made a call. "Nate? It's Michael. We have Rachel. I'm bringing her home."

They drive straight to Rachel's sister's house. Emily was waiting in the driveway, Nate standing beside her with an arm around her shoulder. As soon as Fiona stopped the car, Sam got out and Rachel darted out of the car and into her sister's arms. Both started crying.

Nate walked up to Michael as he climbed out of the car and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I knew you could do it, bro. I knew if anyone could do it, it would be you."

Emily came over and gave Michael a huge hug, then said, "Thank you, Michael. Thank you so much."

"Thank Sarah here," Michael said. "She's the one who really rescued your sister.'

Emily turned to Sarah. "I don't know what to say. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

Sarah smiled. "Just take care of her. She's going to have it rough for awhile."

"I will," Emily said.

"Oh," Sarah said. "You can't tell anyone about what we did. None of us were ever here."

"I… I don't understand." Emily said. "You did so much."

"Please," Sarah said. "It's… complicated."

"I guess that's the least I can do," Emily said. She gave each of them a hug and then took her sister into the house.

Michael turned to Nate. "Take care of yourself, Nate."

"Oh," Nate said. "Mom said when I saw you that she needs you to stop by the house. Her garbage disposal is stuck again." Michael sighed, but nodded.

They piled back in Fiona's Saab and headed over to pick up Michael's car. As they drove, Sarah fell asleep in the back seat.


	12. Aftermath

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 12

Aftermath

Sarah woke when the car stopped at Michael's loft. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and shook herself. There was a split second of panic when she didn't recognize her surroundings but then remembered where she was. She was a little chagrined. She was a trained agent. It wasn't like her to fall asleep like that. Especially not around people she didn't know and trust, like Chuck or Ellie or even Casey.

Sam turned around from the front seat and said, "Are you all right, Sarah? You've had a rough couple of days."

"I'll be fine," Sarah said. "Are we back at Michael's?" She just wanted to see Chuck. Nothing else seemed to matter.

"Yep," Sam said. "And I'm hungry. I hope Mikey's got something in the fridge."

They got out of the car and Sarah immediately winced when she stepped onto her ankle. She had forgotten her injury jumping out of the window. While running on adrenaline, it didn't hurt. Now that it has stiffened up and she was over her adrenaline high, it hurt like hell.

"Here, Sarah," Sam said. "Let me help you."

"I'm all right," Sarah protested, but Sam put her arm around his neck and put his arm around her waist and helped her up the stairs.

The door to the loft was open. Casey had picked the lock. When the door opened, Chuck sprang to his feet and ran to the door. "Oh my God, Sarah, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Chuck," she responded. But she didn't protest when Chuck took her from Sam and helped her over to sit on the bed.

"Are _you_ all right, Chuck?" she asked.

"I'm a little freaked out," Chuck whispered. "Casey hasn't said a single word to me since we left that house. Once we got back here, he took a chair opposite me and just stares at me with this really creepy look on his face."

Sarah stifled a smile. Casey knew that the best way to get to Chuck wasn't to yell at him. It was to make him _wait_ to be chewed out. The anticipation was actually worse than the yelling. "You don't think he'd really hurt me, do you?" Chuck asked. "Don't let him hurt me, Sarah."

The corner of Sarah's mouth twitched a little, but then she reminded herself that Chuck could have gotten himself killed. "I may hurt you myself," she said. "What the hell were you thinking, Chuck? I thought you were supposed to stay here at the loft? What the hell were you doing at that house?"

The door opened and Michael came in, but Sarah did not allow herself to be distracted. She looked back at Chuck with a fierce expression.

"We lost you Sarah," Chuck said, his voice shaking. "I mean, we found the GPS tracker and your clothes. I was so worried. I didn't know what happened to you. So I came up with a plan. I was the only one Obregon hadn't seen, so Michael would give me to him to hold as a hostage."

Sarah turned and glared at Casey. "And you went along with this?"

A growl started low in Casey's throat and grew louder.

"It wasn't Casey's fault!" Chuck said quickly. "I knew he wouldn't go along with it so I had Sam hit him over the back of the head."

Casey jumped to his feet. "Sam?" He turned and glared at Sam Axe. "You told me it was Fiona!"

Now Fiona was on her feet. "You told him _what_?" Fiona shouted at Sam.

"Now, look, I can explain," Sam said, holding out both hands and backing slowly away. "But first I think I'll go get us breakfast." He turned and bolted out the door.

Sarah was not to be deterred. She turned back to Chuck. "Do you have any idea of the danger you put yourself in? Chuck, you can't _do _that. You're the int… You're too valuable."

"But I had to save you, Sarah," Chuck said.

"Chuck," Sarah said in a low, steely voice. "It is _my_ job to protect _you_, not the other way around. You do _not_ put yourself in danger on my account. No matter what the situation. Do you understand me?"

Chuck just looked at her.

"Do you understand me?" she asked, more forcefully.

Chuck slowly nodded. "I understand," he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Promise me you will _never_ do anything like that again," she said.

"No," Chuck said, so softly that she wasn't sure she heard him.

"What?" she asked.

"No," Chuck said, louder. "I can't promise that. Not if you're in danger. Or even Casey. I couldn't just stand by and do nothing. Not if I could help."

"Chuck," Sarah said exasperated. "Don't you understand? We can't lose you."

Chuck couldn't look her in the face. He looked down at the floor. "And I can't lose you," he said.

"Listen…" Sarah started.

"No, Sarah. Handcuff me to the back seat of the car. Put me in a bunker. I don't care… I mean, I _do_ care. I care too much. You can't ask me to stop being who I am, Sarah. Neither you nor Casey. I would have thought you would have learned that by now."

Casey frowned and looked down at Chuck. "Look, Moron, you're going to end up in a padded…."

Sarah stood, wincing as she did, and put a hand on Casey's chest. "Casey, this isn't the time or the place to be discussing this. We can talk more about it when we get home."

Casey looked around at Michael and Fiona looking at them while trying to look like they were not looking at them. "Damn right we will," Casey relented.

"I'm going to go change," Sarah said. She felt dirty and incredibly tired. She needed a shower, some of her own clothes, and to get rid of these damn braces.

"Let me help you," Fiona said, and helped Sarah upstairs.

"This isn't over, _Carmichael_," Casey said.

###

After stepping out of the shower, Sarah looked at herself in the mirror. "Why does it always have to be a busted lip?" she asked to no one in particular. Body bruises were so much easier to hide. She covered it up with makeup the best she could, but she knew there would be no hiding this from Ellie. At least the braces were gone and her hair was back to its normal blonde. The inside of her lip was still lacerated from where the thug in the kitchen had hit her. Another reason she really hated braces... besides the bad memories they bought back of high school.

Fiona had laid out her clothes for her. She dressed and then plopped down in the chair. What was she going to do about Chuck? It had obviously gone too far. She had always worried that she was compromised by the feelings she tried to deny for Chuck. For some reason it never occurred to her that he could be compromised as well and that _that_ could put him in danger. Did he really feel _that_ strongly for her? Of course, he had said that he would do it for Casey, too, and part of her really believed that. It was just like Chuck to think of others before himself.

But dammit, he was the Intersect. He couldn't think like that anymore. And yet…

That attitude, that selflessness, that concern for others. All of that is precisely what made him Chuck. All of that and so much more. If they took all that away, he wouldn't be Chuck anymore. He wouldn't be the man that she… No. She couldn't go there. Not even in the privacy of her own mind. She was an agent. He was an asset. It was her job to protect him. She _had_ to convince him not to risk himself for her or anyone else. He was too valuable. He was the Intersect. Beyond that, he was infinitely valuable because he was _Chuck_. The world needed Chuck and those like him. She rubbed a hand across the back of her neck. She had known this vacation was going to be complicated, but she never foresaw complications like these.

The sound of the door opening and then slamming shut downstairs snapped her out of her reverie. "I'll talk to Chuck when we get home," she vowed to herself in a barely audible whisper.

She hobbled down the stairs to see Sam and Carina. Sam had several bags of food and he was trying to keep Carina between himself and both Casey and Fiona. Sarah's stomach rumbled at the smell of the food. How long _had_ it been since she had eaten?

Chuck saw her coming down the stairs and ran over to help her. That merited a raised eyebrow from Carina.

At least the fear of imminent death from Casey and a dressing down from Sarah seemed to have pushed thoughts of what happened to Obregon from Chuck's mind. Sarah really did want to protect him from the more unseemly aspects of Spy World, but that was getting harder and harder the longer Operation Bartowski lasted.

They all piled around the food and launched into an impromptu feast. Carina managed to nab a seat next to Chuck. Sarah quickly grabbed the seat on the other side. At least Fiona was sticking close to Michael after his brush with death.

After Fiona stood to start clearing away the trash and leftovers, prompting the ever-helpful Chuck to spring to his feet to assist, the room got very quiet.

Carina finally stood and said, "Well, I have a ton of paperwork to do. And a few kudos to collect. After all, Obregon wasn't a big operator, but I took him down all by myself. That should be worth a gold star in my official file."

The others stood. Carina went to each one in turn. "Casey," she said, "sorry I didn't get to see the four-leaf clovers this time." Casey merely growled.

She stopped before Fiona and gave her a hug. Sarah was surprised to see that the two had bonded so quickly. They must have recognized kindred spirits in each other.

"Michael," Carina said next, holding out a hand to him, "I'll keep you in mind next time I'm in Miami."

"I wish you wouldn't," Michael said. "Besides, hopefully I'll be moving on soon."

"That would be a pity," Carina said.

She stopped in front of Sam and smiled in a way that made Sam start to sweat. "Well, Carina," he said. "Let's never do this again."

"Aw, Sam," Carina teased. "Don't be that way."

She turned to Sarah and Sarah gave her a hug. "Goodbye, Carina," Sarah said. "Thanks for all your help."

"Think nothing of it," Carina said. "Just remember, though, you and Johnny owe me one. One of these days I'll stop by to collect." She turned to face Chuck. "Unless you'd like Chuck here to work off the debt for you? You're in town for a couple more days, aren't you?"

"I, ah, don't think I've got the energy for what you have in mind, Carina," Chuck said.

Carina reached up and twirled her finger in one of the curls that hung over Chuck's ear. "Well, if you change your mind, my previous offer still stands."

"Still intimidated," Chuck said, leaning toward Sarah to avoid the playful finger.

Carina just smiled and turned to walk out the door. "Oh," she said to the entire group. "My boss agreed not to prosecute any of the girls and to grant them immunity in return for testifying. They'll get counseling and some help to get back to a normal life."

"A normal life," Chuck whispered, wistfully.

With that, Carina was gone. Somehow, the room seemed a lot emptier.

"We need to be going now, too, Chuck," Sarah said.

Sarah stepped over to Michael. "It was good to see you again, Michael."

"You, too… Amanda," Michael said. "I hope we haven't gotten you in trouble. I know I'm persona non grata at the Agency."

"About that," Sarah said. "I could…"

"No," Michael said. "The burn notice is my problem. I need to take care of it. My way."

"All right," Sarah said. Then she gave Michael a hug, earning sidelong glances from both Chuck and Fiona.

"Listen," Sam was saying to Casey. "No hard feeling about the whole… well, you know, huh?"

Casey smiled, but by no means could the smile be called 'warm.' "Let's just say I owe you one, Sam." Sam gulped, but Casey reached out to shake his hand. "It was good to see you again, Sam. Take care of yourself."

"You, too, Casey," Sam said. Then he leaned in and said quietly. "Take care of those two, huh? They're good people. Hell, she's the best partner you've ever had."

Casey glanced over at Sarah, who was hugging Fiona. "Yeah."

Fiona turned from Sarah to give Chuck a fierce hug. "I hope I get to see you again, Chuck," she said.

"I'm glad I got to know you, Fiona," Chuck said. "You're the nicest bank robber/gun runner I've ever known."

Fiona laughed. "Known a lot of them, have you?"

"You'd be surprised," Chuck said.

"No," Fiona said thoughtfully. "I don't think I would."

Chuck turned to shake Michael's hand. "Mr. Westen, thank you. You've taught me a lot."

Michael smiled. "You've taught me a lot, too, Mr. _Carmichael_. Take care of yourself, Chuck. You're a rare commodity in this business." He leaned in closer and said softly, "And take care of Sarah, too."

Chuck looked at Sarah and sighed. "I will. You take care of Fiona."

"I will," Michael said.

###

Chuck, Sarah and Casey drove back to the condo in silence. They all seemed just a little sad to be parting from Michael, Fiona and Sam.

Casey dropped them off in front of the condo. "What about Ellie and Awesome?" Sarah asked.

"Given your ankle, I think I'll risk it," Casey said.

Chuck helped Sarah out of the car and to the elevator, their bag on one arm and Sarah on the other.

Ellie and Devon were in the suite when they got back. The minute they walked in the door, Ellie took one look at Sarah and cried, "Oh my God, Sarah! What happened to you?"

"It was my fault," Chuck said. Ellie turned to glare at him. "Sarah was trying to get me to help set the sails and I pulled on the wrong line. The tiller, or spar, or whatever that thing is that swings around with the sail on it swung right into her and hit her in the mouth." He turned to Sarah, "You know I can't say enough how sorry I am."

"I keep telling you it was my fault," Sarah said to Chuck. "My sailing skills have obviously gotten rusty." She turned back to Ellie. "And then to top it all off, I landed wrong when I jumped from the boat to the dock to tie her up and hurt my ankle. Chuck wanted to take me to the emergency room, but it's just a sprain."

"I'll be the judge of that," Ellie said, switching automatically into doctor mode, but not before a quick, hopeful glance down at Sarah's left ring finger. Seeing nothing there, she suppressed a sigh and said. "Bring her over to the couch, Chuck."

Ellie expertly ministered to Sarah. She put ice on it, had Chuck get her some pillows to elevate it, and sent Devon out for an ace bandage and ibuprofen.

They sent out for dinner that night, and Ellie insisted on waiting on Sarah.

About ten o'clock, Sarah and Chuck were both yawning constantly. As soon as one stopped the other would start. "Guess you guys didn't get much sleep on the boat, huh Chuck," Devon said with a knowing smile.

"I am pretty tired, sweetie," Sarah said. Chuck leaned down and scooped Sarah up. "Chuck!" she cried. "Put me down. You're going to hurt yourself."

But Chuck ignored her and carried her to their room and laid her gently on the bed. He brought her a washcloth, some cold cream, and a small mirror to take off her makeup. Once the sounds from the living room died away, Sarah picked up the remote and turned on the television to call Casey.

"'Bout time you called," Casey said. "Beckman chewed my ass big time for not sticking to the reporting schedule. She says this is the last time she going to approve a vacation." Chuck groaned. "Anyway," Casey said. "You two lovebirds sleep tight. "

###

Ellie insisted that they spend Sunday simply relaxing so Sarah could keep off her ankle. Sarah convinced her that they could take it easy down by the pool, so they spent most of the day at the condo's swimming pool. Chuck was constantly by Sarah's side, seeing if she needed anything, fluffing the pillows under her ankle, moving the umbrella so that she was in shade. In fact, Sarah finally snapped and sent Chuck off to "find a comic shop or a video game store or something. Just leave me be!"

Dinner that night, their last in Miami, was Chinese takeout. It was Sarah's choice and she insisted that she was in the mood for sizzling shrimp.

Once again, they went to bed early.

###

The next morning, after breakfast, Chuck and Sarah were in their bedroom of the condo packing their suitcases. "Well, it certainly wasn't the vacation I was expecting," Chuck said as he folded his t-shirts.

"Nothing with you is ever what you expect, Chuck," Sarah teased.

Chuck stopped his packing and sat down on the bed. "Sarah, listen. There's something I've been meaning to say."

Sarah stopped and looked up at him, then sat down on the bed next to him.

"I know I was out of line earlier when you first told me that you worked with Michael Westen." Sarah looked down. She was still a little… disappointed… in Chuck for what he thought about her, but she had almost managed to forget it. "The thing is," Chuck continued, "I realize that Michael Westen was an idiot."

That took Sarah by surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Chuck said. "He was in love with you and he didn't do anything about it."

"In love with me? Chuck, what makes you think Michael Westen was in love with me?"

Chuck took her hands in his and looked at her with those deep brown eyes that threatened to make her melt every time she looked into them. "Because, Sarah Walker, it's impossible to know you and not fall in love with you."

Sarah's breath caught in her throat. She looked down to catch her breath, then looked up at Chuck. "You know what, Chuck?" she said.

"What's that?"

"It wouldn't have mattered," she said. "You see, I've come to realize something. The Michael Westens, the Bryce Larkins, they're really not my type."

Chuck face slowly blossomed into a smile. "Really, Sarah? And what is your type?"

Just then, the door to their room burst open and Ellie stuck her head in. "Come on, you two. The car is downstairs. You're not finished packing yet?" She pushed Chuck out of the way and started putting his things in his suitcase. Sarah smiled, stood while still favoring her bad ankle, and finished packing.


	13. Epilogue and Author's Notes

CHUCK VERSUS THE BURN NOTICE

CHAPTER 13

Epilogue

Fiona lay on Michael's bed, a container of blueberry yogurt on her stomach and a spoon hovering over her mouth. "You know, Michael," she said. "This does give you a way to get your burn notice lifted."

Sam, sitting in a chair across the room nursing a beer, chimed in. "Yeah, Mikey. You've got a bargaining chip if you want to use it. You could trade the intel on that Chuck kid to get your burn notice lifted."

Michael snatched the yogurt off of Fiona's stomach and stepped over to the drawer to pull out a spoon. Fiona stuck her tongue out at him as she went to the refrigerator and pulled out another container. "Tempting," Michael said, "but no. First, that wouldn't tell me who burned me in the first place and why. Second, trading the intel wouldn't keep them from doing it again."

"And third," Fiona said. "When all is said and done, you're an honorable man, Michael Westen. In the end, you always want to help people, not hurt them. It's what makes you special. You couldn't ever betray the trust Chuck showed you."

"Or Sarah or Casey," Sam added. "They put it on the line for you. For all of us."

"Besides," Fiona said. "I think he has the hots for that Sarah."

"Come on, Fi," Michael said, licking his spoon. "You know I only have eyes for you."

_**Fin**_

###

You can stop reading now. The rest of this is pretty much drivel.

Authors notes:

Still reading? Huh.

Well, there it is. My first fan-fic (and first completed story in, oh, pretty much ever). I hope you enjoyed reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it. I want to thank everyone who reviewed it and especially **Poa** who proofread it for me and all the others who made suggestions to make it better. You rock.

They say that the key to great writing is to edit, edit, edit. Well, I broke that rule. This is pretty much stream of consciousness. I promise I will take more time with my next fic and do a little editing. The problem with this one was that I got hooked on the reviews and couldn't wait to get the next chapter posted. Well, now that it's done, I'll try to do better next time.

A few words on what I was hoping to accomplish. First, I wrote this story for me. Since I love both shows, I wanted to imagine what it would be like to have Chuck and company meet Michael Westen and company. They are both in the spy genre and both have elements of both action and humor, but where Chuck has the emphasis more on humor, Burn Notice has the emphasis more on action. Burn Notice is also a darker show. Thus it was hard to combine the two and stay true to both shows. I don't know that I did. I think it strayed closer into Burn Notice than Chuck territory. But then, that may be more my lack of ability to write comedy. (As the old saying goes, "Dying is easy. Comedy is hard.") Second, my goal was to write a story that could fit in the current storyline of either show. Thus, although I am a huge 'shipper' for both Chuck and Sarah and Michael and Fiona, I didn't want to push too hard and go beyond the current relationships of the characters. So I tried to write in the unrequited love common to both series. Apologies for those who were looking for something with a more overt Charah flavor. Maybe next time.

Thanks again for reading and a very big thanks to all the other fan-fic writers out there. You inspired me to try my hand and you filled up the time between episodes of Chuck and Burn Notice, as you will continue to do.

"Well, come on Casey. No time for a break. We've got work today." I'm already plotting out the next story or two. Okay, maybe a short break while I catch up on what the other fan-fic writers have written.


End file.
